Captivated
by Lena Polaris
Summary: Kay learns that even as the Marshal of England he can still be captivated by a simple woman. Kay/Moira
1. Chapter 1

**Captivated  
><strong>

_Sometimes I wonder where I've been,_  
><em>Who I am,<em>_ Do I fit in._  
><em>Make believing' is hard alone,<em>  
><em>Out here on my own.<em>(C) Irene Cara

It had been a long night, and even though they had collected his father's books and had begun the journey back to Camelot he still felt hollow. Kay stared ahead as he and Leontes led the small band of men toward home. The books would bring more to Camelot; it would create more of a homey feeling, more family values. Merlin glanced at the sun, gauged the time. "We should be there soon." He informed the men. "Won't be long."

"I'd kill for a decent meal," Groused Kay. "A big hearty one. Leontes?"

"I just want to be back with my wife." Leontes confided with a smile. "Oh, to be in loving arms again."

"Please don't make me lose my breakfast," Gawain muttered.

"Were Gawain's arms not enough?" Kay asked grinning.

"You swore you wouldn't talk about that!" Gawain reached over to hit him, missing narrowly. Kay laughed shaking his head. "Kay, I'll kill you—while you sleep."

"That's if Bridget isn't there," Merlin tossed in. "Or was I mistaken?"

"You're not," Kay admitted. "However she has found heartier feelings of Rusty." His words were met with silence before Merlin broke it with his quiet words.

"There'll be another."

"What?"

"Just trust me." Merlin grinned wryly. "You can do that can't you?"

Kay smirked at him. "I've done it this long." Merlin agreed silently, and wondered if Kay would trust him to follow all that his visions had shown him. He knew she had arrived at Camelot the day they left, now three days later they were returning, and hopefully all was well.

0-0-0

The sound of swords crashing together reached the men as they entered the ruins. Frowning Gawain rode ahead to be beside Kay, he glanced at the king's brother. "We told them no training until we were back." The ex-knight told him. They dismounted handing their mounts off to the stable boys.

"Don't worry—" Merlin's words were ignored as the three men rushed forward into the courtyard. He rolled his eyes. "No one listens to me. Bloody fools." He joined them, though his bored expression was enough to say he did not care in the least for the scene in front of him. Two warriors were wielding sword and shield, a clash of titans. The only thing that had the men stumped was that the shields were not their own knights and one was a woman.

"Up, down, block…block!" The man ordering had a brogue of Ireland. "Side step—" His words were cut off as the shield caught him in the diaphragm and a head full of polished oak hair rammed into his much lighter one. "Ow! Bloody bitch!" He grasped his forehead even as the woman stumbled to regain her balance, her vision going blurry for a moment. "And you bit me!" The shout echoed and the man tackled her. Her grunt and cursing filled the air even as the weapons fell aside. They wrestled, head butting, kneeing, punching, and pinching. "Get off!" Kay heard the voice, a light alto command. He went forward out of instinct to wrestle the man off of her. He fought to get him away and after a moment the stranger yielded, though he wasn't happy.

"She doesn't need yer help," The man pulled away from Kay combing his fingers back through his honey blond hair. Kay ignored him extending a hand to the fallen woman. He got his first good look at her. She was pale as the moon, a rosy pink flush on her cheeks from the fight. Her eyes were a mix of gray and blue and held hard and steady on his. She gave her hand though she was reluctant. He lifted her to her feet watching the burgundy dress settle back into place.

"You're back!" Arthur's voice rang out with glee from above. "I see you've met our two newest warriors."

"Two?" Gawain threw his head back and laughed. "I see one."

"Ye see two, don't be mistaken," The woman lifted her eyes to his. "Or would ye like ta fight me?"

"I'd like a name, personally." Said Kay grinning. Arthur had joined them and clapped a hand on his older brother's shoulder. "Are there more of you?"

"I'm one of a kind," she replied with a smirk.

"She came with her brothers," Arthur stepped into the circle that had been formed. "Moira, Larkin, Malcolm and Owen McCreedy. From Ireland. Merlin sent for them actually, before he got me and you, Kay."

"Oh?" Kay ran his gaze over the woman again. She had a slightly stocky build for such a tall woman, just a few inches shorter than him.

"Ye keep starin' and I could a trick," she locked eyes with him. Merlin hid his smile behind his hand. He had tracked the McCreedy family down after his vision, it hadn't been hard, but getting them to England had. And because of that he had run late getting to Uther's death, and then to Arthur. All was in place from Camelot, at least for that time. Gawain had left their group and was circling her. He had seen the fight with her brother, but then how was he to know that Larkin, as he was called, was going easy. "…They're a Laird's family. Royalty in a sense." He caught the last of Arthur's talk.

"Lady Moira, let's fight." Gawain stated. Her gray eyes flicked to him. She reminded him of a cat. The same look of distaste and dislike, a haughtiness about her that suggested she was better.

"Your name?" She asked.

"Forgive me, tis Gawain." He smiled. She nodded and retrieved her weapons. He glanced down at her dress. "This ought to be interesting."

"Moira," Malcolm McCreedy, tall and dark haired walked over to his sister. "What are ye doin'?"

"Sir Gawain has challenged me."

"Didn't we talk about this already," Mal lowered his voice. "Ye weren't supposed to fight anyone, but the clan."

"I was challenged." Her eyes begged him to prove herself. A crowd had begun to gather, all of them the knight who had already found his niche. "Please Mal."

"Quitting already?" a man laughed in the crowd. She glowered at her feet, even though he was ignored by the others. Mal heaved a sigh, which in her mind meant yes. She tugged her dress up to one side knotting it. She did the same with her hair before hefting the shield and the sword. Gawain's eyes weren't the only ones to go to the sleek looking legs, as white as snow and as smooth as water. He had no doubt she was married. "Ready." She swung the sword back and forth, loosening up. Gawain struck without warning. Her brothers backed away and joined the circle. The McCreedy brothers were all there now, blending in among Kay, Leontes and Merlin. There was silence among the clash of weapons, above Igraine watched, intrigued with Guinevere at her side. Moira spun away from Gawain's thrust and brought her shield up, hitting his jaw. He stumbled back; she took the advantage and in a fury attacked over and over.

Gawain was surprised to say the least. She was strong and quick, but he was stronger. He swept her legs out from under her, and leaped. Seeing him coming she brought her shield up catching him in the stomach and her foot in his groin. There was a chorus of hisses and swears. "Right in the cock," Owen's laugh was deep and hearty. "Ye should have chosen a different opponent." He grinned proudly at his sister. Both warriors were sweating heavily and panting, the fight high in their senses. He attacked, viciously, pushing her back, pushing her limits. Mal began to see her weakening and stepped forward only to be block by Merlin. "Let it go," the wizard said softly. "She needs to do this on her own." There was a curse as Moira landed on her back; Gawain dove with his sword poised at her neck. "You died," He whispered.

"So did you," She replied. He stepped back and saw the knife in her where his stomach had been. With a laugh Gawain backed away.

"I may not have died, but mortally wounded is better than not wounded at all." He would give her that much. "We train in the morning."

"Clever girl," Larkin whispered to his brothers.

Gawain watched her walk to the side with her brothers. "In case any of you missed that," he held up the dagger. "She utilized another weapon. I may have killed her, but she wounded me in the process. Not a fight won, nor lost. Well done." He nodded to her, a base to respect was set "Who's next?" Even as an opponent moved forward the McCreedy's were ducking out of the ring.

He didn't see her for days. She haunted his mind, his dreams, this—this Moira McCreedy. Kay tossed another rock over the cliff. The breeze from the ocean whipped his hair back, his hazel eyes staring over the expanse of the ocean. He heard from Arthur the story Merlin had told him. She was the daughter of a Lord in Ireland, she and her brothers had been trained together. Ireland viewed their women differently. The first born was to be a fighter, the second a lover. The men would always fight; the women when they bled were given a choice. She had chosen a hard life, and it intrigued him. With a sigh he turned his back on the ocean and went inside to the sanctuary of his books.

In another part of the castle the object of his thoughts walked with her brothers. "I can't feel my ass," Moira walked in between her brothers heading for their quarters. She rubbed the body part. "Ow, now _I_ can." Gawain had bested her in the fight they had just had. Her pride was hurt. Gawain _always_ beat her. It wasn't fair. Leontes beat her that day, though he had told her she was getting better. She had at least beat Rusty and Larkin. Which she was still teasing him about.

"My everything hurts," Owen stretched his arms over his head and stopped outside of his quarters. "Ye know, there may be hope for this place yet. I like it here, t'isn't Ireland, but-" His eyes followed Bridget as she walked by. He grinned wolfishly. "But I could get used to it."

"Pig," muttered Moira. He stuck his tongue out at her. They departed, going their separate ways. Moira went to her room and was relieved to see a bath had been drawn. Noticing her bed was piled high with clothes curious she went to her bed. A note sat on the edge. _Thought you might need a few things. Igraine._ She stared at the emerald green dress, garnet headpiece that sat atop the pile and of course the bath. She grinned and thanked God for the woman.

She let the sweaty tunic she wore fall to the ground with the britches she had borrowed—well stolen from Larkin. She gazed at herself in the mirror. She would never be beautiful. She was pretty at best, but right now—she turned one way examining the trail of black-blue bruises to the yellow-green of the older ones. Right now she was a warrior. She turned back to face forward, frowning. She had a round face unlike her sisters well defined bony one. "She isn't here, no use comparing yourself with her." She told herself and tore her gaze away from her body. Moira went behind the screen where the steam was rising from her bath. Gingerly, with every muscle screaming she inched her body into the bath.

She washed and soaked until the bath began to cool and though she was on the verge of sleep she knew she had to keep her eyes open long enough to eat dinner. The knock on the door starteled her enough to slosh water over the side. "Come in."

"Lady Moira," Merlin's voice greeted an empty room. Frowning he started to go behind the screen, immediately he backed away and closed his eyes. "Ah…I'm sorry."

"Tis fine Merlin,ye can't see anything."

"Yes, of course," his brows furrowed he went to the bed and surveyed it with a smile. Igraine was always thinking of others. He stroked the garnet stones in the circlet. "I was watching you today. You've improved since you first came here." He noted the book by her bedside and smiled. She was by far a mystery.

"I saw you," she dried her hair smirking. "Merlin, why is it ye always seem ta be around?"

"It's my lot in life." He replied with a sigh. "This color will look good on you," he fingered the gown, observing the intricate pattern of oak leaves. Moira stood watching him, a warm sheet wrapped around her wet body. "Why do ye look so sad?" She asked walking over.

Merlin watched her, ran his eyes over the protected body and sighed. "My dear Moira, have you seen yourself?" She furrowed her brows, her head cocked to one side in innocent confusion. "You are every man's dream, including this man, but…" He walked over to her with a regretful smile. "You and I were not meant for anything more than good friends." He laid his rough, warm hands on her shoulders, sending tingles down her spine. "And regrettably that's all we can be." He kissed her softly, lingering for a moment over the warm softness. He leaned his forehead against hers, the damn tendrils of her hair tickling his scalp. "That is why I'm sad." He left her room, leaving her both hurt and oddly amused. She was able to fight her way through dinner, and fell onto her furs that night exhausted. And she dreamed of a King's brother.

* * *

><p>Authors Notes: As promised I am doing a KayMoira Fic. I'll continue with You'll Never Walk Alone, but this may take my mood more. There'll be differences between the two. This Moira is softer than the other, and a little more naive.


	2. Chapter 2

**Captivated**

There was I, all alone, gazing at a friendless sky  
>How could I help but sigh, romance had passed me by<br>There was I, all alone, my heart was sadly neglected  
>Then love came along so unexpectedly, for me (C) Vera Lynn<p>The next morning Moira was up, fed and wandering the grounds even before the sun had reached its full potential. She had a man on her mind, not the one that had plagued her for the last half a year, but a new man. A handsome man. She pouted to herself as she plucked up a flower. A man that she knew didn't not reciprocate her views. Every male in the place stared at her, but not with lust or even longing. No, she had the luck of being stared at because she was a freak of nature. God forbid that she know how to fight. The Irishwoman kicked a stone aside, growling to herself. But she had chosen this path, of course she was young and she had no betrothed. Fighting for Ireland seemed like the best option. She had come across few other women who had made that choice, and she was fond of pointing out that she looked a damn sight better than they did.<p>

She stood where Kay had the day before, though she didn't realize it. She stared out over the ocean. Was home that way? Was it close by? Could she run back there if she was rejected? No, the king already said he wouldn't allow it and had promised her Kay would be sure she was safe. She smiled softly, Sir Kay, Marshal of England. Oh, he was handsome, and tall; his eyes, she would never forget his eyes the first time they had locked. Concern. He had been concerned for a stranger. You didn't usually get compassion like that. His hand, she remembered as she flexed her own, had been rough, and strong. And warm. She smiled softly; unaware she was rubbing her fingers against her palm. She wanted to have that feeling again, but somehow losing in a fight just to be helped up wasn't going to go over well.

There was no training that morning; it was Sunday, a day of rest. She would use it. Larkin had told her that Kay and the men had brought back books the day they had met. She was going to be perfectly content to sit and read. Giving one last longing look at the ocean she lifted her skirt and made her way back to the castle. Above her Kay watched, captivated by the sun bouncing of the brunette locks, her gray eyes were trained ahead of her as her long legs covered the distance quickly.

"Yer reaching too high," Larkin commented lightly from beside him.

"Oh?"

"Moira," he nodded at his sister as she crossed under them. "She's not the marrying type."

"Every woman is."

"Nay lad, not every woman," Owen sat near them, whittling a piece of wood into a king figure. There were orphans that needed toys, he would oblige. "Moira's scorned."

"Hell hath no fury," Larkin muttered. He brushed a hand over his tied back hair. "Trust us on this one Kay; she's too much woman for ya."

Kay glowered at Larkin. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"She'll suck the soul right out of ye," Owen tossed in with a grim smirk.

"Stop it Owen," Mal ordered, when he had come upon them they didn't know. "Moira is scorned, but not dead," He kicked Owen's leg out of the way to get closer to Kay. "And she is not soul sucking." He glared at his brothers. "In truth," he clapped a hand on Kay's shoulder and squeezed it. "Moira will give all her love to whoever chooses her. It just may take awhile."

"Fuckin' Ian," complained Larkin. "Ruined everything he did."

"Ian?" Kay felt his stomach drop. She was taken.

"She was a day from being betrothed to Lord Ian of Killkenny, and then he marries our sister…other sister," Larkin clarified. "That was a few weeks before we came out here."

"She's hurting more than she's willing to let on," Owen blew at the shavings on the figure, examined it before nodding, and put it in the canvas bag beside him. "Father wouldn't let us kill the bastard."

"_You_ tried." Mal said with a laugh.

"Aye, I did," Owen grinned at Kay's surprised look. "I love Moira more than Shannon. She'll always have my heart, and my sword." For a large man that struck the fear of God into his enemies Owen was the softest when it came to Moira. He babied her though he shouldn't, and defended her when it wasn't needed.

"It was a dagger," Larkin reminded him laughing.

"It' sharp, and pointy and kills, doesn't matter what the hell I want ta call it ye fool."

"Who's the fool?" Larkin rose from his seat, fists raised.

"Owen, Larkin!" Moira's voice sounded from behind them. She came out from the top of the stairs. "No bloodshed today." She glowered at both of them. "There's honey cakes in the feasting hall, just made."

"Food!" Larkin, thin as could be, bolted past Moira, Owen on his heels. Mal took the more dignified way of walking, though his stomach growled. He stopped beside Moira, and hugged her tightly, whispering in her ear. "In order to heal your heart God needs all the pieces," he glanced behind him at Kay who was turned toward the sea. "For I'm sure He sent someone just for you." He brushed his lips over her temple and departed.

"No honey cakes for you Sir Kay?" She asked teasingly leaning against the stone wall. Bits of rock fell from the weight of her. He glanced over at her and motioned her off the wall.

"We don't know how sturdy it is," He said. "I don't want you falling."

"Do ye always watch out for strangers?" She took a seat on the steps behind her, playing idly with the shavings from Owen's figurine.

"Not all," Kay smiled at her. "Just the pretty ones." He was pleased to see her cheeks flush pink. "Your brother Larkin tells me you like reading."

"My brothers seem very open with ye Sir Kay," said Moira wryly. "Why is that?"

He lifted a shoulder in a shrug. "My puppy dog nature?"

"Ha!" She rose from her seat, dusting her backside off. "That's a good one, I've seen ye fight, ye've no puppy dog in ye." With that she left him, passing him easily on the small walkway. He sniffed the air that was left, it was summery and floral. Comforting. He watched until he could no longer see the purple of her gown. He shook his head, there had to be some way to get her to talk.

0-0-0

A week passed, summer turned to fall, though you couldn't tell. The sun still shone on Camelot with the warmth of a summer day, the trees stayed green, but in Camelot winter was already there in the form of Moira. Kay walked purposefully through the halls after speaking to Owen. He was told by the brother to find Moira and distract her. From what he hadn't a clue, but he was given the task. He had searched high and low before Merlin, with a look of exasperation, said the library. He opened the door and peeked in. She sat on a cushioned bench by the window, her legs tucked up under her with a long curtain of brown hair blocking her face. In her lap sat a large book, already half read.

"Buried in the books Moira?" Kay asked amusedly. The woman glanced up, her pale skin flushing red. "It's alright." He went on as she began to set the book down. "They're for everyone. Do you enjoy books?" He ran his fingers over the worn bindings that sat on the shelf.

"Books are what I love the most," she admitted sheepishly. Kay sat on the edge of the table near her, leaning over to look at what she was reading. He approved of the book with a grin. "I've never read it before." She added.

His brown eyes found her gray ones. "Do you like happy endings?" He asked.

Though her pride told her to guard her secrets, her mouth betrayed her. "More than anything," she stated grinning.

"Then you'll enjoy the book." He began to walk away then stopped thinking about it. "My father used to read that book to Arthur and me before we went to bed." She cocked her head, her hair falling to the other side. "It's one of my favorites." He turned back, surprised to see she was listening intently to him. "Did your father ever read to you?" He sat down in the chair across from her. She smiled, tucking her legs up under her chin in a childlike resemblance. "I take that as a yes?"

"Every night he read," she answered. He nodded, waiting for her to go on. "My sister Shannon always got mad because my father always chose books that I liked." She looked wistfully out the window. "It always started with once upon a time, and ended with happily ever after. There was a girl and a boy falling love, there was war, death, life—" she smiled shaking her head. "All the things that occur in real life." She frowned slightly. "My Da told me life's supposed to be your own story—but I have found happily ever after doesn't always exist." She lifted her shoulders in a shrug. "A bit disappointing, but I suppose not everyone's meant for one."

"Why do you say that?" Kay leaned forward. She glanced up at him and shook her head. "Come on then Moira, out with it."

"Can't you see it when you look at Arthur?" She closed the book, focusing on him completely. He shook his head. "The woman he loves is taken."

"Who?" He asked in surprise.

"How do you not know who?" Moira twirled a strand of hair around her finger. "It's the way he looks at her, the way they avoid each other…" She broke off as Leontes entered the room. She smiled at him as he nodded his greeting. "Morning Leontes."

"Morning Moira, Kay." He took a seat, stretching his long legs out with a groan. "What's the plan today?"

"The king wants to mark Camelot's territory." Moira answered. Leontes smiled at her. "I'm going with you lot."

"Moira—" Kay began, she glowered at him. "Don't wear the dress."

"Can I borrow some clothes then?" She grinned impishly. Kay sighed and shook his head in exasperation. "Or I can get some from my brothers…"

"That might be the better idea," Leontes said. "You don't want people to get the wrong idea about you two. Come on Kay, we'll saddle the horses."

0-0-0

Leontes and Kay saddled their horses and then Moira's in silence; all the while the king's most loyal knight eyed the king's brother. Pondering, thinking, and wondering. "Moira's quite a pretty girl." Leontes said lightly. Kay grunted in agreement, stoking his hand down the mares neck. "She's got a fight in her. It's not a bad thing to have in women these days." Moira's horse Garnet craned her neck to nudge the marshal. "She's not betrothed is she?"

"I'm not sure." Kay admitted, his hands stilled on the girth of his saddle. Then his eyes went to the woman they were speaking of. She had taken Larkin's clothes since he was closest in size. She shouldn't have looked so good to him, Kay realized, not when she wore a forest green tunic that was starting to fall off one shoulder, and britches. Moira smiled taking the reins of her beloved mare. "Ready then?" Kay asked. She nodded and mounted up without assistance. They rode north of Camelot; the poles with the Pendragon flag in carts behind them with the rest of the men who would help raise them.

0-0-0

Her muscles were sore, her back ached, she was burnt red, she was caked with sweat, dirt, burs and God only knew what else and she was blissfully tired. Kay rode beside her, Leontes and Gawain in front of them. The motion of the mare was soothing and she felt her eyes growing heavy. Her head drooped lower and she nodded off, the reins slipping gently from her hands. Kay glanced over just in time to catch her arm as she started sliding. She jerked awake, gray eyes wide till they found Kay. "You pushed yourself too hard," he said softly, taking the reins of the mare in his hand. "You're not used to it."

"But I will be," she said through a wide yawn. Night was falling and with it the group set up camp. "I'm part of the group too."

"Moira you're a lady of Camelot," Kay dismounted and helped her down despite her protest. "You do not need to fight or train…"

"It's who I am," Moira argued with Kay. She plopped her hands on her hips, chin thrown up defiantly. "I can do anything you can do."

Leontes slid a sideways glance at Gawain as they lit a fire. "Sounds like they're getting into it." Gawain glanced behind them as Kay and Moira took on a fighter's stance. He chuckled to himself. "Kay…" Leontes called out, the man turned. "She fights if she wants to."

"She doesn't need to," Kay argued annoyed.

Gawain sat down beside the fire, his leg propped up, his elbows bearing his weight. "She's one more warrior, think of it that way," said the man with a smirk.

Moira smiled at the former knight. "Thank you Gawain."

Kay growled and then pointed a finger at her. "If you get raped it's not my fault."

"If she gets raped it's all our faults," Gawain said tearing into a loaf of bread. "We protect each other, man or woman. For example ifLeontes gets raped—" Moira snorted out a laugh as she pulled her saddle off Garnet. "It's plausible." Gawain tossed a chunk of bread at her for laughing.

"No Gawain, no it's not," Moira said laughing as she sat down with them. "Just bloody well look at him, the muscles, the glower, ye wouldn't be able ta rape that." Everyone, but Kay laughed instead he scowled at her. She smiled impishly at him.

Leontes and Gawain were the first ones to fall asleep; Moira stoked the fire one last time before curling under her cloak. Kay watched her for a moment before settling next to her. He sighed softly staring at the sky above. "Would you really let them rape me?" She asked softly, it had hurt her more than she had let on and the thought would keep her from sleeping, she was sure of it. Kay turned his head, watching the fire, but also making sure his companions were asleep. "Kay."

"No, of course not." He rolled over to face her and gazed into her eyes. "Moira I want you to know the risks…"

"I _know_ the risks Kay," She propped herself up onto her elbow glowering, gray eyes bright in the firelight. "There the same as they were in Ireland."

Kay shook his head. "They're worse here."

"In some ways yes," Moira rolled onto her back, eyes on the twinkling stars above.

"Why do you fight then?" Kay laid back, his head against hers as they formed a single line. "It's not your country. Not your home. You have nothing holding you to it."

Moira pondered the question for a moment, her gray eyes on the tree branches above them, watching the stars twinkle through them. "Same reason anyone else does."

"What's _your_ reason?" Kay toyed with the loose strings at the V of his tunic, waiting for her answer. He heard her draw in a gentle breath.

"Hope." She let out a soft sigh, her eyes stinging with tears at the thought of her dreams that could happen now. "This country has hope, room to grow, things to see—" She brushed a strand of hair out of her face. "Arthur has a vision, one that I believe in. He's forming a story, a _legend_ that starts with once upon a time…I fight so that everyone's story may begin, women, children, men, doesn't matter where they come from or how poor they are as long as they fight for a cause. In Ireland—" She brushed at a tear. "In Ireland there's no causes anymore…no purpose to killing your own brothers-in-arms. Ireland lost her stories long ago. Here, here it's just starting."

He remained silent for a few minutes before asking. "Will it end with happily ever after?

"I don't know yet." She confided. They left the conversation at that and let the tiredness the day had caused them take them away to a world of dreams. Moira had closed her eyes, but soon opened them to stare up at the stars. "I've met some folks who say that I'm a dreamer. And I've no doubt there's truth in what they say," she sang to herself softly, trying to lull herself to sleep and in doing so brought Kay back to consciousness. He listened; his eyes now open gazing as she did.  
>"But sure a body's bound to be a dreamer, when all the things he loves are far away. And precious things are dreams unto an exile. They take o'er the land across the sea." She hummed the song and he listened until it ended suddenly. He lifted his head and looked over, sure enough she was asleep, her mouth open slightly. Smiling he rolled over to face her for the night, hand on his sword.<p>

* * *

><p>Authors Notes: Don't own Camelot or the song Isle of Innisfree by Celtic woman<p> 


	3. Chapter 3

**Captivated**

In olden days a glimpse of stocking  
>Was looked on as something shocking,<br>But now, God knows,  
>Anything Goes.(C) Frank Sinatra<p>

"She snores…" Gawain stared down at the woman, curled into a tight ball, her hand resting on the hilt of her sword. Leontes and Kay stood beside him, Leontes chuckling quietly and Kay grinning. "Excellent choice Kay, she'll wake you up with that."

"She didn't last night."The man shrugged. He nudged at her leg with the toe of his boot and leaped back as the sword came up with a snort. "Good morning." He greeted her gleefully. She stared at him, wavering where she sat before flopping back down with a muttered 'fuck yerself'. He was finding out many things about Lady Moira, and every step of the way was interesting. "C'mon, we'll be home soon."

"It's still dark." Moira groused into the hood of her cloak.

"That's not true," Gawain yanked her cloak out from under her ignoring the yelp. "Suns coming up."

"Where the fuck do ya see that?" She got up, brushing the needles and dirt from herself.

"There," Gawain pointed past her to a glint of gold at the edge of the forest. "See. It's coming." She turned her head toward him, a scowl on her lips. "Buck up Moira." He slapped a hand on her sunburned back and barely winced when her yelp came with a quick jab to the stomach. They broke what was left of their camp began to ride out. Moira hunched inside her cloak, gray eyes slit in a glare. "Don't like mornings do you?" Kay asked smiling.

"I prefer the sun at least halfway up or complete solitude till then." She replied.

"I pity your husband," Gawain said over his shoulder. Leontes glowered at him for breaking their plan of asking her things for Kay.

"I have no husband." She replied. "I can _snore_ all I want."

"You heard us?" Leontes smirked back at her. "We thought you were asleep."

"I was in and out." She admitted sheepishly.

"Then your betrothed will be bothered," Gawain went on as if the side-conversation never happened.

"I have no betrothed either."

"Bloody hell, how old are you?" Gawain reined his mount in to ride beside her.

"Twenty-six ya bastard," she laughed gaily. "In Ireland the daughters get to choose to be a warrior or a wife."

"Can you still wed?"

"Oh sure," Moira nodded with a grin. "If any man would have ye tis allowed." Gawain winked at Kay when the woman wasn't looking. "Are we there yet?" Moira asked.

"Close." Leontes answered.

"How close?"

"Close enough," he turned in his saddle at the sound of her grunt. "Moira!" Kay wheeled around; an arrow was lodged in the side of the woman. Shouts could be heard around them. Swords were drawn by the men still astride their horses, forming a circle to protect the fallen woman.

"You cross onto King Arthur's land!" A villager rode forward. "Who are you?" Kay found their flag father up and scowled darkly.

"The king's men you fool!" Kay shouted dismounting to aid the woman. She had slid from the saddle and was leaning against the trunk of a tree, examining the wound. "And you attacked one of his ladies."

"You shot a woman!" The lead man yelled at the man near him.

"She didn't look like one!" He shrugged. "Sorry miss…" He was ignored as Arthur's men swarmed around her. Moira stared down at the arrow sticking out from her side. Her breathing was fast and panicked. "I cannot die because a fucking villager shot me!" She grabbed Kay's tunic in one hand, pulling him close. "Do ye understand me? It is not gonna happen! I have a better death in mind."

"Shut up and stay still," Gawain ordered kneeling down. He wiggled the arrow ignoring her swears and cries of pain. "It hit bone, you're lucky." He moved aside as Kay took his place.

"Pull it out!" Moira grabbed the front of Kay's tunic, gray eyes watering. "Pull the arrow out Kay." He stared down at the arrow protruding from her hip, his hand laid on the rising and falling ribcage. In some sick way he was glad to be able to touch her so intimately. He ignored the soft skin, the slight layer of fat, and grasped the arrows tail. She whimpered and he let go.

"I can't." He backed away.

She growled. "Kay, pull out the arrow I've seen you do it before." She yelled.

"On a dead animal!" He shouted back.

"Gawain," She looked up pleadingly at the former knight. He knelt and snapped the arrow in half; she arched and writhed in pain.

"Leontes hold her, Kay get her arms." Gawain positioned himself. "You ready?"

"Don't ask me if I'm bloody ready to have ye pull out a fuckin—_Shit_!" She curled into a ball; Gawain sat back and tossed the arrow away. "Thank you!" She fell back, chest heaving. "Kay…" She crooked a finger in a 'come hither' gesture. He leaned forward. "Next time pull out the arrow." Leontes was at her side once more binding the wound, mildly ashamed that he enjoyed feeling her arch up so he would wrap the binding around her back. Then he remembered the wife at home and stilled the thoughts. Kay gave him a look as Leontes let his hand rest on her stomach. Sheepishly the three men helped her up, and shared a quiet conversation.

"I saw her first," Kay said softly. "Leontes you're married, and Gawain…you're…out of practice."

Gawain shoved Kay playfully. "The fuck I am. Make a bet?"

"No, no, no," Leontes shoved between them. "Kay is pursuing her, Gawain find someone else."

"You enjoyed it as much as I did," said Gawain grinning. Kay growled warningly.

"Can we go now?" Moira whined from behind them. "I'm starting to bleed through." Kay walked over with a smile.

"Can you ride by yourself?" He asked softly. She glanced at him, touched. She nodded. "I'll help you up." He knelt giving her a leg-up; letting his hand cup her bottom as it went toward the saddle.

"Oh nice move," Gawain muttered to Leontes. Then winced as Moira swiped at him laughing. "Maybe not."

"It was a good move," Leontes admitted. Kay walked back toward them grinning. The four of them continued their ride toward Camelot. Moira watched Kay was he rode ahead of her and smiled with a little shake of her head. Foolish man, but a handsome one. She only wondered if he knew what he was trying to accomplish. What could happen? It wasn't like she would fall in love with him. She had made that mistake once before, and she didn't plan on making it again…with anyone, or anything.

-0-0-0

"Where's the king?" Moira stormed in Camelot. Kay was on her heels trying to rein her back in. "Larkin?"

"Council."

"Good," she turned on her heel and headed toward the room.

Kay grabbed her arm, hauling her back. "Moira be rational."

"We were attacked by our own people Kay, they don't know us, isn't that a little odd to you?"

"They didn't know us."

"We had the Pendragon flag. Who else—Morgan." Moira began walking again, leaving Kay confused, he jogged after her.

"What?" He asked.

Patiently Moira answered him. "Morgan's the only person besides us with the Pendragon flag."

"That's quite an accusation. She is the king's sister."

"She's evil Kay, I've heard stories."

"Just leave it for now," Kay kept a firm grip on her arm. "Come on. You need your bandage changed; the healer wants to look at it."

"Fine," Moira pouted and fell in step beside him. He left her at the healers hands, though the woman tisked at Moira, and started complaining about the king allowing a woman to fight. Kay ignored the pleading look the Irishwoman gave him and departed. She was fogging his mind up too much for him to feel safe. Larkin joined him as he entered the courtyard. "She got shot?" The Irishman asked forebodingly.

"She's fine," answered Kay. "Surprised the villagers." He faced the man that had become a friend in the last few weeks. "She scared me."

"Aye, she has a habit of doing that to men." Larkin took a seat on the steps, pulling out a dagger to clean his nails. "Do you want her?"

"What?"

"Sex Kay, when a man and woman—"

"I know what you mean, just—"

"I'm blunt," Larkin shrugged his shoulders, casting in brown eyes to look at the sky. "Tis my lot in life." He turned his unwavering gaze to Kay. "So my sister—"

"Larkin I don't know what I want from her."

"Sex is a good start," Larkin replied. Owen turned toward them from where he played with one of the orphan girls.

"Yer a pig Larkin," Owen called over with a laugh. Sending the boy on his way he joined them. "Who's he having sex with?"

"Moira."

"What?" Owen flushed a dark red, his muscles stiffening.

"Well, he wants to." Larkin added. The red went away. "I'm trying to help him."

"Don't make me kill you Larkin," warned Owen. "Moira's been hurt too much to be hurt again." He looked pointedly at Kay. "However if you wish to _court_ her…you'll have to talk to Mal."

"And be as patient as a whore is with a virgin." Larkin threw in laughing. Kay leaned back; his thoughts making him turn inward. He barely listened to the conversation going on as he pondered what his next move would be, if there _was_ a next move. Bloody Hell, he thought, I'm making it sound like a battle.


	4. Chapter 4

**Captivated**

_Into the woods_  
><em>And down the dell,<em>  
><em>The path is straight,<em>  
><em>I know it well.<em>  
><em>Into the woods,<em>  
><em>And who can tell<em>  
><em>What's waiting on the journey? (<em>C) Stephen Sondheim

The woods were her safe place; Moira realized that as she picked her way among the path. She would always go to them when she was lost in her own thoughts, and right at that moment her thoughts were on Sir Kay. She sighed softly. "Ye've put your foot in it this time Moira," she told herself. "The King's brother? Aiming a wee bit to high my girl. He wouldn't want the likes of you. Who would? A lord didn't even want you." It was a hard reminder, but one she made to herself everyday to keep from being hurt again. She ran her hand over the rough bark of a tree as she used it to swing herself over a small stream. The hem of her dress dragged into the water, but she cared not. There just ahead of her was her target; the small river that ran through the forest. With quickness in her step she made it to the river, only to have her heart sink. Kay already sat in the spot she had claimed as hers. The weeping willow had become her favorite spot to sit under and read, or just lie and watch clouds.

Kay glanced up from his book as a branch snapped, his long fingers wrapped around the hilt of his sword and slowly he rose, setting down the book. "Hah!" He jumped out; Moira's fist went up and into his neck. He dropped his sword, gasping. Her hands went to her mouth as a giggle burst out. "Are ye ok?" She asked, trying oh-so-desperately not to giggle. He nodded. "Are ya sure Kay?" She lifted his head up, examining his jugular. "Ye can breathe?"

"Not when you touch me," he whispered softly. Her cheeks flushed and her hands fell to her sides. "I'm sorry, it wasn't meant to offend you." He watched her with curious brown eyes as she walked to the water's edge. "What happened to you?" She turned her head to stare at him, the breeze blowing her brown hair into the air. "Why do you run from men?" He approached her though her heart was racing and her mind wanted her to run and don't look back. "Larkin says there was a man for you in Ireland."

"Larkin is mistaken," Moira crossed her arms against the cool wind, hugging herself tight to protect herself from the memories. "There is no man in Ireland."

"A snake then," Kay offered with a tiny smile. She laughed softly. "There, there it is," he moved closer. "A smile that would make any man fall for you." She dropped her head; he was intrigued that such meager words would bring embarrassment and a blush. "Are you going to the feast at Morgan's tonight?"He asked watching her kneel to choose a flat rock to skip.

"I had considered it, my brothers aren't going."

"You should go," Kay said quickly. She arched a brow. "To keep me company. I hate these kinds of things."

"I'll consider it," She replied smiling. Later she would spend the night regretting it.

0-0-0

Moira gazed at her reflection in the mirror, turning one way then the other. Scowling she tried to decide if the emerald green was the best choice…maybe the gold would work. Growling she changed dresses for the fifth time then tossed the gold one off and chose the emerald again. "This is it, no more, this is the one." She fixed what she could, and let Igraine do her hair for her. The woman had more style than she did that was for sure. She decided gazing at the style. It was half up, half down and her bangs had been swept to the side under her circlet. She wrinkled her nose when Igraine added rouge to her face. "You're ready," Igraine stepped back to examine her work, then stepped forward to fix the coal eyeliner. "Now let's hurry."

Moira frowned to herself, questioning if she was right to have chosen to go. Something felt wrong, it was in the pit of her gut, but she couldn't place a finger on it. They joined the men in the courtyard. "She looks good," Gawain commented lightly to Kay.

"Who?" Kay tightened the girth on Moira's mare. He turned and saw what Gawain had been staring at. "Good is an understatement," the Marshal stated as Moira approached. She smiled at both of them. "We saddled your horse for you."

"Thank you," Moira examined the work they had done and tightened the girth a notch more. Kay was at her side, lowering his cupped hands to help her up. She smiled at him, and in front of her amazed brothers took the help.

"Something's not right," Owen muttered to Mal. "That's not natural."

"Moira never takes help…" Larkin added in. "Oh God in Heaven help us all, Moira might have found a match."

"We'll see," Mal had the final word. He caught Kay's eye for a moment before inclining his chin in a 'do it if you dare' gesture. Kay nodded to him once accepting the challenge. Moira's eyes found her brothers and she lifted in arm in farewell.

"Be safe!" Malcolm called to her.

"Don't get drunk!" Owen shouted next as the band headed out.

"Oy Kay! Don't bed her on the first night!" There was Larkin, ever blunt and to the point. Moira visibly winced while Merlin twisted in his saddle to stare at the king's brother. Kay looked down in embarrassment. Igraine patted Merlin's hand to bring him back to her attention. "Let them be." She said softly. "Tis a good match." Merlin couldn't help but think quite bitterly that he would have been better.

"He wasn't serious," Moira assured Kay. "He was just…"

"Joking."

"Aye." An awkward silence fell over the two of them. Gawain glanced from one to the other with a small snort he rode beside Moira. "Excited?" He asked smiling.

"Nervous."

"About what?"

"Do you honestly trust this woman?" Moira asked softly.

"If the king does—"

"I'm not asking you for the king's opinion Gawain, I'm asking yours." Moira looked over at him, gray eyes far from mirth. He pondered it for a moment, his green eyes on his horses head.

"Something doesn't sit right," he admitted finally. She nodded content with that answer. As long as she had one person in that group who shared her views she would feel safer.

0-0-0

Fake, Moira had summed Morgan up in one word the moment she had met her. She sat comfortably between Kay and Gawain, though she had been steering clear of the drink all night. Gawain leaned over, whispering in her ear. "Try to look a little friendlier Moira, some of the men are staring at you and I don't think it's to see if you have a weapon." It was true the Pendragon men had been paying close attention to her.

She laughed, and turned her head, lips accidentally brushing his cheeks. "But I do Gawain, always come prepared." He laughed and shook his head. Kay watched them, a stir of jealously surfacing, but a few moments after that Morgan clapped her hands for entertainment. Moira's jaw dropped as the dancers came out. Kay clapped from beside her and she glowered at him, kicking his shin. "Tis all good fun Moira." He said squeezing her leg gently. "Relax." She couldn't relax, nor would she. Feeling awkward—yes awkward was the word, as well as uncomfortable she slipped away quietly.

It wasn't long till Gawain joined her outside on the balcony. "Moira…" he spoke softly from the doorway. She turned. "There's something you should know." He walked over to her. "Kay went with one of the dancers…same with all the other men…" he drifted off, pained to see the hurt on her face. "Tis foolishness Moira, he's drunk."

"What do I care?" Moira turned her back on him. "He's a free man." But she did care, and it did hurt, even though she had tried not to get close in the month she'd been there. Gawain, giving into his urges, stroked a hand down her silky locks. She tilted her head, looking up at him. "T'isn't fair," she whispered. "It's always the prettier girls getting men."

"You're plenty pretty Moira," Gawain brushed his lips over her forehead. "Trust me," his forefinger and thumb held her chin, his thumb traced her full bottom lip. She tried to rein in her racing heart, her fluttering stomach. She liked Kay, and here was Gawain offering her something sweet, for one night. And wouldn't it be fair, considering what Kay was doing? Who he was with? His thumb brushed her jaw line, she closed her eyes, relishing in the rough pad of his thumb running gently on her skin. The thumb turned into his whole hand, she tilted her face into the warm callus palm. She waited with bated breath as Gawain leaned forward. It was the briefest of kisses, just a slight brush, to tease, to test.

She leaned into him, into the kiss. His hands wound themselves into her hair as he dove deeper into the kiss. Moira fought to breathe, to still her heart, but she couldn't. It was a promise of one night, an unspoken assurance from Gawain. From somewhere in the distance she heard a word that brought them to a screeching halt. "Fire!" They sprang apart, eyes going below.

"Go, Moira, Go!" Gawain shoved her toward the castle. "Go to where it's safe!" She heeded his warning, but only for a time. Morgan watched from above, intrigued. From the way Arthur had been talking the Irishwoman was interested in Kay and there she had stood kissing one of Kay's trusted friends. Oh, this would be too easy. She laughed softly to herself even as Sybil planted an idea in her head.

* * *

><p>Authors Notes; A big ole bear hug of a thank to Darkfireangle00 for the idea and synopsis of the episode I missed. Not as good as the episode would've been but I did what I could =)<p> 


	5. Chapter 5

**Captivated**

_ If I should lose her,__ How shall I regain _  
><em> The heart she has won from me?<em>  
><em> Agony!<em>_ Beyond power of speech,_  
><em> When the one thing you want<em>  
><em> Is the only thing out of your reach<em>. (C) Agony-Into The Woods

Guilt, Kay knew the feeling of it. He wandered the courtyard, trying to catch a glimpse of Moira. He hadn't seen her since they had arrived at Camelot late last night, and even then he had seen her with Gawain. "Lady Igraine?" He jogged over to the woman. She was looking—lost? Well, that was unusual she usually knew Camelot like the back of her hand. "Have you seen Lady Moira?"

Morgan smiled Igraine's sweet smile. "I thought I saw her with Gawain not too long ago. They did kiss last night; I wouldn't be surprised if he's started courting her today." She patted his arm, and went on her way. Kay stood, dumbfounded, guilt was replaced by rage. Gawain thought he could take _his_ woman did he. He stormed away toward Gawain's room, it was like another Arthur, you had to keep your woman by you or a hawk would come down and snatch it away. Kay barely noticed Larkin or Owen coming up on both sides until they grabbed his arms. "We have to have a talk boy-o," Owen stated.

"Not until I talk to Gawain." Kay shook them off. Owen shared a look with Larkin, they hung back. Pondering the fury they had seen.

"If he slept with a dancer, why is he mad at Gawain?" Larkin asked frowning. "All we were gonna do was congratulate him." He pouted a little, then he saw Moira storm by. He didn't pay much attention to it; Moira was always stomping around for one reason or another.

"Think we should do something?" Owen asked.

"Wanna spar?" Larkin replied.

"I meant about Moira, idiot," Owen watched her turn the corner into Kay's hallway. "Uh-oh." Larkin arched his brows in question. "Either Moira just heard wind of Kay's escapades or she's going to bring him a cake."

"She wasn't holding cake…"

"Exactly," Owen started to walk forward, but a hand clamped down on his shoulder. He turned his head staring at Leontes. "Is it true?" He knew that of all people Leontes would tell the truth.

Leontes sighed softly. "A lot of odd things happened last night Owen. No one was themselves."

"Did he hurt her?"

"There's hurt on both sides," The man released Owen. "Let them handle it."

Kay banged on Gawain's door with his fist closed tight. "Open up Gawain!" He shouted. He kept banging until it opened. Gawain stood, fully dressed though not many others were up this morning. "You bastard," Kay growled before he threw his body into the other man. As they were rolling about, punching and kicking, Igraine walked by with a cocky smile. Two knights torn apart by a woman. Time to start on the king, but that could wait a day.

"What the hell hasn't gotten into you!" Gawain sat on top of Kay.

"You took Moira away from me!" Kay accused angrily. Gawain stared at him then started laughing. "It's not funny you ass!" He tried to punch the ex-knight again, but Gawain blocked him easily and got off of him.

"I kissed her if that's what you mean," Gawain straightened his clothes, and ran his long fingers through his hair. "And I told her where you were." He narrowed his eyes on the king's brother. "You hurt her."

"I didn't mean to, I drank too much." Kay stared down sheepishly. "Still didn't mean you should have kissed her."

"I was curious," Gawain replied grinning. "But I can tell you right now—you'll enjoy it."

"Can you not rub it in?"

"Should've spent the night with her and not the dancer," said Gawain callously. "She likes you,fool and somehow you let her slip through your fingers and into my waiting hands."

Kay growled and grabbed Gawain's tunic pulling him close. "She's mine Gawain; we all settled that I would get the first chance."

"You fucked a dancer when she was sitting the entire evening beside you Kay," Gawain knocked his friend's hands away. "If you should plead your case to anyone it's to her, if she'll have you." He left Kay standing there. He fought the fury that he felt at Kay hurting Moira, he had ridden beside her back to the castle, had seen the tears she had tried desperately to hide, and he had walked her to her room, to comfort. Gawain's sharp eyes caught the tail of Moira's dress in the hallway containing Kay's room. "Moira."

Gray eyes swung sharply onto his. "Gawain," she smiled slightly. She approached him, with a little less confidence he normally saw her with. He reached a hand on stroking the side of her face, and kissed her brow. "Thank you for last night," she said.

"It was my pleasure," replied Gawain with a crooked smirk. "Kay's looking for you…"

"Is he?" Her words frosted over. "Convenient, I was looking for him too."

"Moira…" Gawain brushed the side fringe of hair off her face. "Last night was—"

"Unusual," she finished.

"Yeah—as much as I would have you…there's a code…"

"Kay wanted me first. I know. Mal told me." Moira smiled a little. "We'll be good friends Gawain."

"Aye," He hugged her tightly. "And if he hurts you anymore I'll kill him myself and take you for my own." He pulled back, brushing away one of the tears that fell from her dove gray eyes. "Buck up."

"Yes sir," she replied saucily. "He's not mad at you is he?"

Gawain thought of his aching jaw where one of Kay's punches had landed. "He's fine."

"As long as yer safe," Moira straightened the bodice of her dress. "Well, I'm going to go castrate someone. Have a lovely day Gawain." He grinned at her and kissed her hand in farewell.

Kay sat in front of Moira's door, head leaning back against it, banging softly. "Moira," he called out again. "Open up." His brown eyes were shut as he kept banging his head on the door. A shadow cast over him. He opened his eyes; he wrinkled his nose at Merlin. "What do you want?" The answer was two strong hands hauling him upright. "Merlin!"

"I brought her here," Merlin spoke slowly, his eyes cold. "I literally placed her in your hands, and what do I get? I have Gawain bruised, I have Moira hurt, and you hung-over and happily fucked."

"Look, where is she?" Kay shoved Merlin away. "I wanna talk to her."

"Talk then," Moira's voice echoed down the hallway. Both men turned their heads toward her. Merlin stepped away from Kay, and walked past Moira with a muttered 'Let him have it'. Her response was a cold, wolf-like smile. She walked slowly over to Kay, her footsteps echoing in the hallway. Was it just Kay or had the hall dropped a few degrees. She opened the door to her room and motioned him in. "No sense having it out where everyone in Camelot can hear." She said lightly. The door closed with a snap behind him. They stood in awkward silence.

"Moira…" Kay began; she turned her eyes to him, her lips in a thin line. Lips that Gawain had gotten to first. "How could you kiss Gawian?"

"How could you fuck a belly dancer?" Moira shot back angrily.

"Well, I—I—"

"If you _really_ needed sex I was beside you the ENTIRE time!" Moira shouted, she was on a roll and wasn't going to be stopping. "Ye make every single attempt at me for a month, a _month_ and it all gets ruined because you were thinking with your cock and not your head!" She took a breath winding up again, but he lifted his hand, she sputtered. "Don't ye raise yer hand ta me boy-o, I'm not through with ya yet!"

"Moira, if I could get a word in—"

"A word?" She repeated. "Ye want a word? Bastard, there's a word fer ya, or better yet ass, there's another one. I've got plenty more built up for ye—"

"Moira…"

"Go hifreann leat!" She stomped her foot down, then clapped a hand over her mouth.

"What?" Kay blinked. "Was that English?"

"Nothing."

"There's a language called nothing?"

"I told you to go to Hell," Moira replied, firing back up again. "And by all means take the belly dancer with ye."

"Moira, I'm sorry."

"Sorry for what?" She asked icily. "Are you sorry for fucking the belly dancer or hurting me? Better yet how about dragging me down the wonderful road to courtship and then tossing me to the wayside because something better came along. I've enough to worry about Kay, I don't need you. I don't need anyone."

"Tell that to Gawain."

"Gawain was comforting a friend in need."

"Is that what you call him shoving his tongue down your throat?" Kay shot back angrily. "I was supposed to be the first one to kiss you!"

"Oh were ye now?" Moira shoved her hand into his chest pushing him back a step. "So would it be fair ta see ye were supposed to be the first one ta bed me as well?" He nodded. She shoved him again. "Then I should've let him do that, just so ye can truly feel the hurt of it all!"

"You don't even know her!" Kay caught her hand before she could shove him into the door.

"Neither do you!" Moira snarled. On the other side of the door Mal, Larkin and Owen listened intently.

"She has a good point," said Larkin. "I mean at least she kissed someone she knew and trusted."

"Shhh I can't hear what they're saying," Owen pressed his ear to the door.

"Well?" Mal asked, leaning on the far wall.

"I think she hit him." Owen turned his eyes wide. His predictions were true. Kay stood on the inside of the room, hand held to his cheek. Moira lowered her arm, gray eyes tearful. "I deserved that," Kay admitted. Moira nodded her jaw tight. "Can you forgive me now?"

"Not on your life." She yanked the door open. Owen fell in at her feet. She glowered at her brothers before stamping by them. The three brothers looked in, Kay sat on the edge of Moira's bed, head buried into his hands. Mal helped Owen up. "C'mon, he's had enough for one day." He told his brothers.

0-0-0

Moira sought out the company of Gawain, it probably was not the best idea considering the conversation that had just happened, but she needed a friend. She found the man with Leontes with him. "Can I walk with ye?" She asked softly. Leontes smiled sympathetically and threw an arm around her shoulders. That was as good as any yes. She talked to them about the discussion as they walked into the woods. Leontes chuckled softly when she told them about smacking Kay and Owen falling into the room. Silence fell over the trio. "We're going hunting tomorrow morning," Leontes said. "Did you want to go?"

"I think it's best if I sit this one out," Moira replied darkly. "Wouldn't want to stir up then men," she scowled at the ground as they made their circle heading back toward Camelot. "God forbid I have feelings."

"He was drunk." Leontes defended Kay.

"He was a fool." Gawain added in with a scowl.

"He still is." Moira shrugged. "What more could anyone expect from a man? No offense." Her companions shrugged. They entered the court yard and by passed Kay, or at least Moira did. She split away from her friends without a word; Gawain on the other hand met Kay with a stony silence. Leontes looked from one to the other. "Grow up," he said before leaving them.

"I'm sorry for over reacting." Kay said.

"Don't apologize to me," snarled Gawain, he walked away from the king's brother, head held high. Kay made sure he didn't go in the same direction as Moira. He gave himself that bit of relief. Following his instincts he went to the empty stable and stopped the moment he had entered. He heard weeping. A knife twisted in his heart. How could he have been so stupid? Mal emerged from Garnet's stall and walked over to Kay, stopping momentarily. "Leave her alone," he warned. "She's not ready for you." Kay dropped his head like a scolded dog. Trying desperately heard not to think about the damp spot on Mal's shirt where Moira had buried her face. It should've been him comforting her, and now he was banned from it.


	6. Chapter 6

**Captivated**

There was a time when men were kind  
>When their voices were soft<br>And their words inviting  
>There was a time when love was blind<br>And the world was a song  
>And the song was exciting<br>There was a time  
>Then it all went wrong<strong> (C) Les Mis<br>**

The dawn of a new day brought no change between Kay and Moira. Malcolm watched the two duel. Moira was reserved in her attack and Kay—there was no heart in it. The excitement had been when Gawain and Kay had fought. They weren't friendly in any means, in truth it reminded the men who had been there longer of the first time Gawain had arrived. Kay parried a blow with a bored expression before Gawian called a halt to it. He walked over to Moira; he would entice a response, from both of them. "You're not yourself today Moira," he talked to her quietly. "I understand you're hurting, but understand this—" He lifted her chin up and pressed a warm kiss to her lips. "He slept with another woman." Yes there was the flash of anger, Mal thought with a grin. Gawain knew just how to fire both up. He walked away to join Mal again. "Continue." He waved his hand. Kay lunged at Moira who brought her shield up and into his side.

"Yer free with yer affection friend," Malcolm said lightly. "But remember that is my sister yer kissin'."

"She needed a reminder." Gawain replied.

"Of what? The hurt Kay has caused her?" Mal shifted his body to gaze at his friend. "She has plenty to remind her of that night."

"Just watch." Even if it had been a low hit for Gawain to pull both warriors flourished in the eyes of their watchers, until after a full ten minutes Kay took Moira down. She lay beneath the tip of his sword, bleeding from her arm. He stared down at her, brown eyes cold, chest heaving. She mirrored his gaze with her own chest heaving in exertion. She tossed her heard, clearing her side fringe of hair from her eyes. "Well done." Gawain said. Kay didn't move from where his swords tip nearly cut skin. "Kay!" Gawain's voice rang out strong and hard. It was broken off by the clash of sword on shield. Moira was back on her feet, sword in hand.

"Let them go." Leontes advised softly. Again there was a whirl wind of activity. Arthur joined the group now. He stood beside Malcolm, Gawain and Larkin. Leontes moved away from them. Gawain, his attention piqued frowned as Kay tripped Moira and pounced, sword poised to kill .He stepped forward then stopped as Moira swung her long leg up and knocked him to the side. The men had quieted and were intent to watch, intervene if necessary. Merlin joined them after a few moments. "Should someone stop this?" He asked softly.

"Let her hold her own," Malcolm replied wincing as Moira fell to the ground from a blow. He shifted uneasily as he saw the tall tale signs that his sister was growing tired. Kay was pushing her and he knew it was because he was angry. Angry that Gawain had kissed her first and then in front of him. Angry at having slept with the dancer when Moira would have given herself freely. "Just give up." Kay said darkly. "You're making a fool of yourself." Moira clenched her jaw and drew her sword back, ducking and weaving. He nicked her side, drawing more blood. She cursed, Larkin's shout to stop drowning it out. "He drew blood, he's won, why is he still going?" Malcolm asked Arthur.

"Kay, Moira enough!" Arthur ordered stepping forward. Kay and the woman ignored it. Moira rolled; Kay stomped on the blade of her sword. Crying out she went to clutch her arm but stopped the instinctive move as she crawled back. Kay lunged and as the blade met the dirt by her neck the blade of a dagger met his chest, slicing lightly at the top of his tunic. A drop of blood dripped onto her hand. She stared at the red welt oozing blood. She lay still beneath him, their chests pressed together heaving as one. He dropped his brow lightly onto hers, their sweat mingling. "I'm sorry Moira," he panted. "I'm sorry."

"Get away from me," she whispered. She was trying not to think of his hard thigh pressed up into her most private of areas, or how his chiseled chest felt against her breasts. Before she could warn them again Owen burst into the court yard. "Larkin, Mal!" He pushed through the men. Slowly, gingerly Moira slid out from under Kay, nursing her left arm. "Moira—" Owen stopped. "You may not want to hear this…"

"Tell me," Moira ordered as Leontes helped her to her feet. Owen hesitated, she saw him pass a piece of parchment to Larkin whose jaw dropped then to Mal whose face contorted into a glower. "Now ye have to."

"Shannon's coming…" Larkin said.

"To visit?" Moira hesitantly. "Or—"

"To settle, along with Ian." Mal added. No further explanation was needed. Kay started forward as Moira paled, but she was gone before anyone could act.

0-0-0

She sat underneath the willow tree beside the river, listening to the water chuckle and chortle around rocks. A family of ducks swam by, quacking softly. Kay peeked around the protective curtain to be sure it was her there. She looked so sad, yet he knew she should have been happy at the news her sister was coming. He had spoken briefly with Larkin about the situation and had gotten nothing more than a line of curses about the woman. He ducked through the branches and took a seat beside her. She had changed her clothes from when he had last seen her. Here was the laird's daughter, dressed in a emerald green gown, a circlet of her power around her head, jewelry adoring her fingers, ears and neck. Her brown hair hung in loose curls down her back and he smiled to see bits of grass and twigs in it. "May I sit?" He asked softly. She lifted sorrowful gray eyes to his kind brown and nodded. She hated to admit she did enjoy his company, even if he was on her bad list. He took the patch of grass beside and mimicked her position, arms wrapped around his knees.

Moira turned her head, resting her cheek on her knees, eyes on him. "She's goin' ta ruin everythin' I've built here." She shook her head scowling. "She always does."

"Moira she's your sister."

"She's a bitch is what she is." She smiled slightly as he let out a laugh. "She's been my enemy as long as she's been a sister."

"What did she do to you?" Kay tossed a small pebble into the river. Moira watched the water ring out and thought about her words carefully, a little too carefully in Kay's opinion. After all, the woman had gained a reputation for being brutally honest and opinionated. "Moira don't bother acting ladylike with me, not after all we've been through."

"Ye really want to know, don't ye?" She asked softly. He nodded. "I loved a man once," She began, gray eyes staring off in front of her. "Lord Ian of Killkenny, he was handsome, kind, a gentleman—so I thought at least…" She plucked at the grass under her booted feet. "I thought he would marry me, t'would've been wonderful I imagine." She gave a small laugh though it held no humor. " It was late summer when he told me he was betrothed to my sister. My own sister! After bedding me for three months!" There was the anger, he thought. "And she _knew_ I was with him!" She fell back, starting up at the branches of the tree. "Ian and Shannon are settling here." She said darkly, her voice cracking. "Not ta sound overly dramatic, but I think it's safe ta safe my life is over." That was why the dancer had hurt her so much, he realized and felt even more guilty.

"Moira sit up," Kay backhanded her knee gently. "You're better than this."

"What do ye do when yer good isn't good enough?" Moira turned her head toward him, gray eyes bright with tears then brought them back to the branches. "When ye feel that ye've let everyone down?" Kay didn't answer; curious she glanced back over to find he wasn't there. She sighed heavily before letting out a shriek. "Put me down!" She screamed, kicking. Kay ignored the hits and tossed her none too chivalrously into the river. "Kay!" She broke the surface with furious scream.

-0-0-0

"Moira…" Larkin watched his sister walk into the main hall, clothes dripping with water; she stalked by with her boots in hand. Kay followed whistling a cheerful tune, ignoring that his clothes were soaked as well. "Kay…what did you do?"

"She was overreacting," The king's brother replied as he sat between Larkin and Gawain. "So I threw her into the river."

"You really know how to handle women," said Gawain dryly. Larkin laughed. "Honestly, do I need to show you how it's done?"

"Oh fuck off, I think you've done that enough Gawain," Kay growled. He took one boot off and dumped the water out of it.

Larkin's brown eyes watched him do the second boot before grinning. "Ye realize of course she doesn't go down without a fight."

"I do now," replied Kay dryly. "Thanks for that warning."

"Figured you'd need it," Larkin sheathed his sword. "Especially if ye sleep with another dancer." Kay scowled down at his bare feet. It seemed he would never live that down. "I take it yer not forgiven."

"You are once again right."

"Especially now that you threw her in the river," said Gawain grinning. Kay smiled at him. At least he could mend one broken friendship. Igraine watched from above scowling. There had to be a way to bring more havoc among the men. She tapped her fingers against her mouth in thought as she walked back to her room. She could have Leontes sleep with Moira, but then his marriage was already ruined. Gawain—he was digging himself a grave on his own. Arthur—no, no too easy though the ultimate betrayal she had better things in store for him. It seemed the best thing to do was drug Moira somehow and send her own her merry, lustful way.

She locked herself into her room, gathering what meager supplies she had brought with her. Lust was a most wonderful thing, deadly but wonderful. She pondered her options. Moira could hallucinate, oh hallucination was an grand idea, but then if she got Kay to bed Moira unwillingly—or better yet Moira could just be the little whore she knew she could be. Gawain seemed like a prime target, but then Kay would be better. More friction between brothers-in-arms. Sighing, her lower lip poking out in a pout Igraine tried to ponder the best option.

0-0-0

"The boy does not know how to be romantic," Bridget informed Moira as she helped the woman braid her hair. "Trust me when I was with him…" She broke off at Moira's widened expression. "Oh, my apologies Moira…"

"Ye were with him?"

"It was only one night, before you came here I swear." Bridget finished the braid quickly. "I'll see you down at dinner." She left the room as if a swarm of bees were chasing her. Moira sat at her vanity gazing into wounded eyes. She had underestimated Kay for the last time. Never again would he haunt her thoughts or her heart. Tugging on the purple dress she had chosen for its low bodice and off the shoulder style she examined herself in the mirror. This _boy_ had another thing coming to him. She made sure the swell of her breasts could be clearly seen. With revenge high in her thoughts she went down to dinner. Her brothers and the core group of Gawain, Leontes, and Kay. Gawain glanced up from talking with the men and felt his mouth water. Kay followed his friends gaze and coughed violently on the ale he had been drinking.

Smug as a cat who had found a bowl of cream Moira sat between Gawain and Kay leaving her scent of light floral amongst them. Igraine poured her a goblet of wine and passed it down. Moira glanced at the woman confused. "I don't drink wine Igraine…don't ye remember?"

Frazzled Igraine cleared her throat. "I thought you would like this one…" Waiting with bated breath she watched Moira take a sip—then another. She relaxed as Moira nodded her approval. Kay reached over for the goblet, and once more Igraine felt her plan fall into place. Quite smoothly in fact. That was until Larkin grabbed his sister's goblet and drained it. Infuriated she poured another glass and handed it down, Moira shook her head. "Too much for one night." Larkin grabbed it before Igraine could move it. Well, that wasn't expected. She decided, however she saw Larkin flirt with Bridget, and saw the glint of jealously in Kay's eyes. Then again, she leaned back smirking, this could work.

-0-0-

"What are you doing?" Kay grabbed Larkin's arm as the man went to follow Bridget's form into the darkness.

"She's willing."

"She's off limits," Kay said coldly.

"For who?" Moira's voice asked behind him, her jaw was set tight with fury. "I thought ye had redeemed yerself—no I can see you really haven't." She watched Kay let Larkin go, her brother tottered after Bridget. She stared at Kay hard for a long moment. "I'm thinking it's time for ya to decide who ye want beside ye Kay." She turned to walk away. Kay grabbed her arm; she let out a soft yelp. He froze; slowly he brought her closer to him. Without a word he lowered the side of her gown further off her shoulder. He had left a long scratch from his sword, and her shoulder was a mass of bruises. She stood stiffly under his hands.

"I'm sorry."

"The word has very little meaning to me Sir Kay," Moira replied. He brushed stray strands away from her forehead. "You hurt me." She lifted her chin as his large fingers stroked down her face, she was melting into his touch and she loathed the weakness. But—it didn't feel like it was her weakness…like something was drawing her in. He moved closer, an arm snaked around her. She dropped her head back, gazing up at him with sterling silver eyes. Kay let his lips brush over hers, soft as a flowers petal, warm as mulled cider in winter. Moira fastened her arms around his neck, feeling out of control with her body. Kay held tight to her as he plundered for a kiss. "How do you deal with temptation?" She asked softly.

"By yielding to it." He murmured against her lips. She let him slip his tongue into her mouth, exploring it just as much as him. She pondered his answer before drawing back. "Moira…" She said nothing, standing there, her lips swollen from his kisses.

"You yield too much," she said ever so softly. "And I don't yield enough." With no other words than that she walked away, leaving him aroused and confused.


	7. Chapter 7

**Captivated**

I don't feel any pain  
>A little fall of rain<br>Can hardly hurt me now  
>You're here, that's all I need to know<br>And you will keep me safe  
>And you will keep me close<br>And rain will make the flowers grow. (C) Les Mis

What was dawn when you woke up alone? Just another day where the sun miraculously comes up, another day where birds fly chirping past your window, another day filled with misfortune, and sorrow. Moira rolled over on her side to stare at the sun rising. What would it have been like to wake up in Kay's arms? At the least the dancer hadn't had that privilege before she did. Fresh tears began to flow, soaking her pillow. She would face another day, by herself like she was used to. In two weeks Shannon would be at Camelot and once again her life would spiral out of her control. Giving up on sleep, and for once not caring for the sunrise Moira rose and dressed in the dim light of her room.

In a room two doors down Kay sat already dressed at the edge of his bed. He wanted to fix things; he wanted to make it right. He ran his fingers back through his hair. He stroked the scratch she had given him the day before. The fight had gotten out of control, he knew it and she knew it. There had been blood drawn on both sides, yet they had continued. He had pushed her, she had pushed him. Kay left his room, sword at his waist. And ran into Moira. She stumbled back; he caught her arm to save her from the fall. "Let go," She ordered. Kay did as she bade, but only because he saw the shadows under her eyes.

"As you wish Lady Moira." He stepped back, examining the breeches and tunic she wore. He always loved seeing her in men's clothes and in her dresses. She wore her hair loose the way he liked and around her neck hung a chain of silver with a small cross. He reached out, but she moved away. "What can I do?" He called after her. "What do I have to do to make this right?" She stopped at the end of the hallway. "Please Moira…" His steps sounded softly behind her, his large hands landed on her shoulders, and gently tugged her back into his hard body, his arms holding her tightly. She was stiff against him; he wished he could take away what he had done. "Moira say something," he whispered, nuzzling his nose into her hair. Though her heart was in pain she pulled herself out of his arms.

"I've nothing to say to you." And so she left.

Word spread like wild fire of the attack at Bardon Pass, horses were saddled, weapons gathered. Kay froze the moment he saw Garnet in the court yard being saddled by Owen. "Are you taking Moira's horse to battle?" He asked with a grin. Owen tightened the girth of the saddle before turning, his eyes were grim. "No…Owen you cannot let her…"

"It's too late for that," Moira said coming from behind him. "I'm going with you." She mounted her horse. Owen, Larkin and Mal mounted up around her. Kay gazed into icy gray eyes, and shook his head. It was her choice. They rode, following the young boy Albion. Merlin's shout echoing behind them. "Be victorious! For Camelot!" As they rode Kay noticed that Albion's attention seemed fixated on Moira. Smart boy, Kay thought darkly. But foolish. "Are you married?"

"No," She smiled at him.

"Would you marry me?" He asked grinning. "I'm a strong warrior, and I'm smart."

"I suppose someday…" She smiled warmly at him. Kay scowled at her. "If you were older." The boy grinned at her, but it was replaced by sadness as they neared the pass. "Yer a brave boy," Moira reached over to squeeze his hand. "Not many have the courage that you do to ride to Camelot and demand to speak with the king. It is a trait to be treasured; someday you may be a warrior of Camelot."

"Like you?"

"No," she shook her head. "Like Leontes, or Gawain," Her eyes fell on Kay who rode to her left. "Or Kay. Or even my brothers." Their talking ceased as they arrived at the Pass. Leaving their horses they followed the boy. Moira froze at the top of the cliff; she began backing away and bumped into Larkin. He held her steady. "T'will be fine little one," he said softly. Kay moved ahead of her and then looked back. She stood stock-still, face as pale as water. He held his hand up to her. Larkin nudged her forward. She took Kay's hand and with Larkin holding her other hand was lowered onto the edge of the cliff. Her palms went slick with sweat and her stomach twisted into knots. "I can't." She stayed glued to the side of the wall. Kay reached out; his arm went around her holding himself and her to the wall of the cliff. "Step," he coached softly. "Step again." Larkin was on her other side, watching carefully. He knew his sister was absolutely terrified of heights and she hated to have it happen in front of so many.

Kay let her go with a soft kiss to her temple, as if assuring her that he would help her. The moment he was up both hands were reaching down. She reached up, moving her foot only an inch over and caught the soft spot Arthur had. The earth gave way and though a scream edged its way up she bit it back as Kay lunged catching her under the arms. Quivering she was pulled into Kay's arms and held for a long moment. "You're fine." He whispered. She shook loose of him and stepped back, brow slick with sweat. They entered what could hardly be considered a fort and settled in for what would be a long day and possibly night.

"Move the hay cart," Gawain ordered. Moira went to help, but Arthur beat her to it. Curious she watched Arthur take Leontes arm, he said something and Leontes spit at him. Confused, completely utterly confused she wondered if anyone else had seen what the champion had done. Shrugging it off for the time being she went around checking the layout as Gawain had. She figured a second pair of eyes would help.

It was quiet, much too quiet; Moira walked the edges of the camp, eyes flitting always to the other side of the field. Kay watched her in silence, walking alongside her, but saying nothing. When they began a third round she turned toward him, brows knitted together in annoyance. He backed off. She heard the shots from the other side of the field. "There's a rider!" She whirled around in time to see the golden hair of Guinevere. "What is that idiot doing?" She shouted at Kay. They ran to the barricade. Leontes was first over with Moira shouting at him, and then Arthur went. "Protect the king!" Her shout rose of the twang of bows firing back at the enemy. All three were back safely. Moira shot Guinevere a hard look. "What did you do?" Kay shouted.

Arthur remained calm. "What do you mean?"

"What did you do?"

"Tell them Arthur," Leontes said panting.

"I betrayed Leontes in the worst way I could have," Arthur informed the group. Moira closed her eyes realization dawning hot and heavy on her.

"It was the morning of my wedding, he had her first then he married us," Leontes left them, kicking aside an arrow.

"Kay," Arthur began as his brother dropped his shirt front.

"Don't talk to me," he snarled. Moira watched her gut wrenching in fear.

"Kay."

"You just can't stop yourself can you, any woman ins fair game!" Kay yelled. "Is Moira next for you, huh!"

"Kay, it wasn't like that I love her!"

"Just like all the others

"No, I love her and she married someone else."

"I can't believe you, I never know when you're telling the truth—" Moira walked away not wanting to hear the rest of Kay's words. She approached after the king's brother was gone. "Why do you stay with me?" Arthur asked woefully.

She crouched down, turning his face toward her, gray eyes serious. "Men make mistakes," she said softly. "You may be king—but you're still a man." She brushed a strand of hair from his brow affectionately. "They are yer men, they will forgive you."

"Even Leontes?"

"Leontes will fight for the rest of this battle—but I doubt he'll stay," she rose from her crouch.

"You say all men make mistakes…" Arthur glanced up at her. "Yet you haven't forgiven Kay." She dropped her gaze, the king had a point. She walked away from him, around them a battle was beginning.

It was dawn when the army sent on of their men over. She joined the ranks at the wall. "I want t talk to the king!" He shouted.

Arthur stood tall, his kngiths around him. "So talk."

"You have one chance to surrender."

"You could've saved yourself a walk, we won't be surrendering. You killed my guards, threatened my territory! We won't surrender."

"Then today you die!"

"Fuck you!" Larkin stood beside Rusty to join the shout.

"Prepare for the attack," Arthur ordered. Moira lifted her bow, arrows in hand. "Are ye ready for this?" Mal asked they fitted their arrows onto the strings.

"Does God have angles?" Moira asked. Mal smiled to himself. Those were the last words spoken before the battle of Bardon Pass began. They fought as any knight fights, with a passion with a love for their king though he had made mistakes. Moira was in the midst of running a man through when the horn sounded. She relaxed until she saw the arrow everything around her seemed to slow, stray arrows whizzed by as she ran toward him. She fell to her knees at his side. "Kay, Kay!" She shook him. Arthur knelt on the other side. Together they hauled him into the house. In the hands of Guinevere and the villagers wife Moira went to return to the battle, to find it over with the enemy retreating. Just as well, she decided going back inside and crouched by Kay, examining his wound before yanking the arrow out. He groaned in pain glowering at her. "That's how it's done." She told him quietly. He mustered a chuckle.

"Take Kay and the family back," Arthur spoke to the entire group. "Get help, I can hold the fort for now then I'll follow." Gawain glanced over at Moira to see her reaction; she had risen from where she had knelt beside Kay.

"I can't let you do that." Gawain said.

"It doesn't have to be you." Larkin added.

"Yes it does." Arthur replied. Gawain and Kay found their eyes turning to Moira, she hadn't spoken. She was in a corner, sitting on the table, braiding the hank of hair on the right side of her head, he watched for a moment intrigued by the quickness of her fingers, when she started on the other side he spoke. "Moira, as lovely as you are this is no time to be playing with your hair. She ignored him as she weaved the two strands into the back forming a large plait.

"She's not playing with it," Mal rose, his eyes dark. "She's preparing for battle."

"Battle?" Kay struggled to sit up. As if he knew of her plans he shook his head. "You can't stay." She ignored him.

"The king needs someone here." Moira spoke to her brothers as they surrounded her.

"I said I'd stay alone." Arthur argued.

"And I took an oath," Moira turned pale eyes on him. "You'll need help. They'll tend to the wounded, and warn Camelot."

"Moira please," Kay rose, bracing himself on the table. "You can't do this, if this is about Pendragon-"

"Don't flatter yourself." She snapped. "I'm doing this for the king." She turned her eyes to Arthur. "You have no choice in it Arthur." She left the group to go outside. Sitting just outside of the house she glanced skyward, the sun would set in two hours. Somewhere up there was Heaven, oh yes she believed in this kind of thing. There was a scuffle from inside the house and then Mal sat down beside her on the rocks; they knew that over their barrier lay the enemy. "I'm not going to talk ye out of it little one," He said softly. "But I do urge ye to talk to Kay." She scowled at him. "Now don't give me that look love," He put his arm around her shoulders, hugging her close. "He's a good man who made a mistake." Moira smiled and buried her face into Mal's neck. "Be safe." Mal didn't bother to hide the break in his voice.

"I will," She pulled away and they rose in unison. "Mal...if anything should happen-if I don't make it back..." She broke off, eyes watering. "Just...tell the clan—" He nodded needing no further words. "Erin Go Bragh."

"Aye," Malcolm leaned his brow against hers. "I love you." His blue eyes bored into hers. "Understand me, I love you."

"I love you too," Moira cupped the back of his hand, he mimicked the position. "If I die here and Shannon comes…tell her I hate her still."

"Aye, and ye tell Uncle Dirk when ye see him in Heaven that he still owes me money." Mal tried to smile, but the pain of leaving her behind was much too hard. "Defend the king."

"Protect Camelot." She rubbed her forehead on his like a cat rubbing a tree trunk. That was how Kay found them, forehead to forehead, saying an unspoken goodbye. "I love you Malcolm Ryan McCreedy."

"I love you too Moira Riley McCreedy. And don't ye ever forget that." He kissed her lips quickly. Kay stepped over to her; she gazed at him, unwavering in her decision. "You don't have to do this." He said swiftly. "We won't leave him for long."

"But you're still leaving him, you make sense, you're wounded."

"And you cared," Kay framed her face between his hands. "You were by my side."

"Of course I cared you fool," Moira whispered, tears falling. He smiled, thumb brushing her tears away.

"And now you're staying here," Kay lowered his forehead to hers. "Right when I've got you talking to me again." She laughed softly. "And I finally get to hear you laugh again." She lifted her face to his, accepting a warm kiss.

"If this is goodbye…" She began. He shook his head and opening his mouth to speak, she placed her fingers over his mouth. "I would have wanted a life with you."

"It's not goodbye." Kay assured her even as Leontes said it was time to go. He kissed her one last time and then departed. Arthur and Moira stood side by side, the sun falling behind them as they watched Kay's head lower down past the cliff.

"This is it," Arthur said softly. "Just you and me."

"For an hour."

"Or the night."

"You said we'd follow."

"That was before there was a 'we' involved." Arthur replied.

"Arthur if ye think ye'll get their faith back with reckless thirllin' heroics yer wrong." Moira stared at him, realizing that she was being ignored as he yelled at the other side. She rolled her eyes. They would die, she knew it, and the thought dimmed her good mood.

* * *

><p>Authors Notes: So, if any of you can do better following the show and getting quotes down from Bardon pass please do so for me. This was my best attempt. From here on out I will be winging it, and then be wrong next season =D<p> 


	8. Chapter 8

**Captivated**

Tomorrow we'll be far away,  
>Tomorrow is the judgement day<br>Tomorrow we'll discover  
>What our God in Heaven has in store!<br>One more dawn  
>One more day<br>One day more!(C) Les Mis

Dawn approached with a quickness that Moira had not seen for a long time, or maybe it was because she looked forward to it; Moira and Arthur stood side by side, knight and king, warriors joined at the heart. Both sets of blue eyes watched the forces gather. "They have reinforcements." Arthur said softly. "I wasn't expecting that."

"Ye don't expect a lot of things," said Moira as she gathered arrows. "Ye didn't expect Leontes to ever find out, ye didn't expect Morgan to be against you—"

"Morgan's against me?" Arthur turned, eyes surprised. Moira stared up from him from down in the yard. Her expression was blank. "Is she?"

"Do ye really think she's on your side?" Moira joined him once again as he broke into a loaf of bread, handing her half. He nodded. "Doesn't it seem odd to ye? These series of unfortunate events that always occurs after seeing her…"

"What do you mean?"

"The first time you met her Merlin was drugged, yer family and home gone, Leontes finds out about you and Guinevere, Pendragon gets mysteriously attacked while the men are drunk and with women—" Moira stopped listing as Arthur's eyes seemed to glaze over. "Understand now?" He nodded, setting aside his meal for fear he would lose it. "And isn't it odd every piece of land south of here, closest to Pendragon is untouched? Why Bardon Pass?" She finished her bread. "Why this little outpost? Other trade routes can go to Camelot."

"I'm thinking a council is in order when we get back to Camelot," Arthur rose, poked his head over and just as quickly ducked as an arrow flew over his head.

"I see they're restless," Moira stated dryly, turned and fired her arrow, hearing it clink off of a shield. "I understand ye were trying to be the hero and everything sending them away, but t'was a foolish and idiotic thing to do." Another arrow winged past them.

"You're just realizing this?" Arthur replied loudly over the sound of thundering hooves. Moira popped her head up to view the oncoming rider. She saw it wasn't a rider, but just a stray horse. Lowering her head again she looked at Arthur, gray eyes dark. "What?" He asked.

"They're distracting…" Her words were cut off as a sword sliced through the side of their fort. She shouted for Arthur to move, drawing her sword. Whether she intended to or not, whether she realized it or not she had placed herself in front of Arthur, sword and shield raised against the three men that toppled through. One of them jerked his head up, and she scowled. "Yer a fucking idiot!" She hauled Larkin up by the neck of his tunic. "Were ye deaf when I said ta go back!" She boxed him smartly about the ears even as Owen was helped up by Malcolm.

"Yer our sister," Owen clapped hand on her back. I'd've preferred ta drown ya when ye were born, but we're still blood." She grinned at him. "So, let the fun begin, yeah?" Owen situated himself at one of the openings. Arthur looked at Moira and smiled. They may have had hope yet.

* * *

><p>"What do you mean they're gone?" Merlin's voice echoed menacingly through the great hall. Kay sat on the table top letting the healer patch his wound. "The McCreedy brothers have disappeared?" He spoke more gently. Leontes nodded. "And let me guess—" He gesutured around the room. "Arthur is at the Pass as well."<p>

"Yes."

"And Moira?" He prompted.

"Stayed with the king." Kay answered bitterly. "We tried to get them both back…he gave us an order."

"Ohhh he gave you an order," Merlin's voice dripped with sarcasm. "That only _you_ fool's followed." Around him heads were lowered in embarrassment. "And the brothers have gone to aid the king, correct?"

"We think so," said Rusty.

"Then what are we sitting here for?" Merlin growled. "Gather your weapons…not you Kay sit back down," He motioned the wounded man away. Scowling Kay did as he was told. The room cleared out and the two stared at each other. "I'll bring her back Kay," Merlin promised him softly. "And your brother."

"See that you do."

* * *

><p>"No, no, no!" Moira's voice rang loud and clear as the group arrived an hour later. Mal grinned from the fire as Gawain came over smirking. "Fools! Idiots! Bastards!" She shoved Gawain away from the laughing hug he gave her. "We'll all die now."<p>

"Oh come, come Moira," Gawain slung his arm about her shoulders. "At least you'll die in the best of company." She couldn't help but laugh leaning into the hug with a muttered curse. They sat as if they had been friends for years. The fire crackled happily, one would have thought that it was just a hunting trip the way the group acted. There were racy jokes to tell, stories of hunting trips, escapades on women, sex stories, anything one could think of. They slept in a huddled group that night, like pups lying on top of each other or as close to it as possible.

Moira curled into the embrace Gawain had put her in, she was guarded on both side; Gawain at her back, Leontes in front of her. She smiled sardonically, oh what a hussy she was. The thing was she enjoyed every second of the men's arms coming around her, but her heart ached for Kay. She closed her eyes, snuggling deeper into warmth. She would see him soon.

Moira ducked a blow from the broadsword wheeled by her enemy and returned with her own attack. With both hands she spun her sword over her head and brought it crashing down, slicing through flesh and bone. She looked up long enough to see her king falter, and their enemy slice at his cest. "Arthur!" She screamed. Everything around her began to blur, to slow down; her legs carried her over bodies, around fights, her hearing dimmed so there barely echoes of the fight, it returned suddenly with her resounding scream. "No!" She fell on her knees beside him as the enemy began a retreat. "Oh God, oh God," her hands moved unsurely above his body before she pressed both hands to his blood-soaked mail trying to staunch the flow; tears welled in her gray eyes. "Arthur no," she shook her head as she he fought for breath.

"Moira," he whispered through cracked dry lips.

"Be still," she looked around widely, tears escaping. "Malcolm! Leontes!" she screamed her voice breaking. Their men were already arriving as the enemy left. Moira tore the bottom of her tunic off pressing it firmly to Arthur's chest. "You'll be fine," she whispered, touching his cheek. "I promise," she began trembling, fear racing through her veins like horses in a field. It was a shallow cut, no less than an inch. She hadn't realized he wore mail…an odd thing to notice. "You'll be all right, Arthur." He closed his eyes, groaning in pain. "Mal take him, go!" Her brother needed no further bidding. With Leontes helping he lifted Arthur onto one of their enemies horses. "Ride hard," Moira was behind them as Mal mounted. "And don't look back."

"What about you?"

"I'll be right behind you," She stepped back watching as the men gathered stray horses. "All of you." Gawain stopped beside her a questioning look; she grabbed his arm holding tight to it. "Go Gawain." He started to move then she hauled him back, crushing her lips against his. "That was fer you," she whispered and kissed him softly again. "That's for Kay."

"What are you doing?" He asked quietly, large hand stoking over her braided hair.

"I'm taking care of things." She replied and walked away, sword in her hand dripping with blood. She made sure they were riding toward Camelot before she found her own mount. The king would be safe, Camelot would be safe, and her brothers, her friends, and her fellow brothers-in-arms would be safe.

"We're foolish to doubt them." The quiet discussion perked Moira's ears as she went alone on foot toward the enemy. "Morgan said it would be just the king. There was more than the king."

"We have the sword that's all she wanted." The other man replied. Moira narrowed her eyes, they had taken Excalibur. She moved swiftly back to the horse and mounted. Taking a deep breath she kicked the horse's sides and with a cry that echoed in the night ambushed them.

"Close the gates," Owen commanded as he dismounted from his horse. "I want every able-bodied person on that wall ready to defend."

"Moira's still out there!" Gawain grabbed his friends arm before he could leave. "You're sending her to her death!"

Owen shrugged him off as he made his way through the courtyard. "She'll be fine." He was unaware that the clang of metal he heard had been Gawain colliding with Leontes' armor as the knight held his friend at bay.

"I will not lose another friend!" Gawain shouted at the mans back.

"Let it go Gawain," Leontes pushed him back. "She chose to do it."

Infuriated Gawain jerked away, shoved him, and jabbed an accusing finger into his chest. "You love and care for her too, why didn't you say something?"

"I—I…" Leontes fumbled for words.

"You sent her to her death just as much as I did." Gawain hissed and departed, his friend Larkin on his heels asking what was going on.

"Leontes, we're awaiting your orders," said Rusty softly.

Leontes sighed quietly, stared at the outside of the walls for a long time before he closed his fingers around his cross. "Close the gates." He listened to the heavy clank of the wooden doors being pushed together, and thumped the closed fist into his forehead, eyes shut.

* * *

><p>Moira spun her horse and decapitated a foe, dodging to the side to avoid the sword that clanged against the horses armor, she ran the attacker through. More began to swarm around her. She began to back up towards the woods. The enemies' numbers had diminished greatly from the earlier battle, but still more than one could take. She lifted her sword to kill another and cried out in pain as an arrow pierced through her armor beneath her armpit. And then another in the upper right corner of her chest.<p>

The horse sensed the change in his rider and bolted into the woods. He bucked once and she settled on his neck. The horse was quicker than the enemy who were on foot and barely giving chase. They had what they wanted.

"Where's Moira?" Malcolm grabbed Gawain by his tunic. "Where's she at?" Gawain laid a hand on his friends forearm, loosening the grip.

"She said she would follow," the man replied. Kay met Malcolm's gazes and ran up the wooden stairs to the wall. He peered through the turrets, searching for the rider. He still had hope. Love always had hope.

An hour passed and Kay lifted his eyes to the night sky. He wasn't ready to say she was dead or captured. "Still no sign?" asked Owen gently from the stairs a few feet from the knight.

"None," he answered bitterly. "If you had stayed—"

"We would have lost more men, Kay."

"She's your sister! Your family!"

"I am well aware of that!" snapped Owen. He put his hands on the stone, staring out over the field and silence fell over them.

Trees swam in and out of Moira's vision. The horse was walking slowly, picking his way through the last bit of the path in the dark forest. Off in the distance an owl hooted and something scurried through dry leaves. Moira hoped it was an animal and not a enemy; she was in no condition to fight. She could feel wet drops running down her side, and the pain was a hot steady throb. "Cahan," she whispered the horse's new name, his ears flicked back. "Hurry." The horse snorted, and picked up the pace. They entered the clearing in a few minutes, around the time Moira lost conciseness. Cahan lifted his head and an ear splitting whinny filled the quiet night, with the sound of galloping hooves.

Startled by the sound Kay woke up to not only a jolt of pain where his wound was, but also hope filling his heart. Beside him Larkin and Mal rose. "Larkin…" Kay stood as well with half the men on the wall, their bows raised. "Hold your fire," the knight ordered. "It might be Lady Moira."

Owen joined them, tensely waiting for his sister, praying he wouldn't lose her. "There!" Larkin shouted from the further down the wall. They followed his arm towards the middle of the field; the moonlight glinted off metal and the glint of brown hair. "That's our Moira!"

"Open the gates!" Owen shouted. The doors were pulled open as the wild eyed Cahan charged in, snorting and turning in tight circles. Kay, Gawain, Larkin, Leontes, and her Malcolm ran over.

"Hold him!" Mal roared catching the unseated Moira. "Get the healers! She's wounded!" He brushed his fingers across her cheek. "God Moira what did you do?" The healers arrived taking her from his arms with a muttered 'we have her'.

His brother was wounded, a pale sickly color, his blood had soaked bandages upon bandages, but he lived. It was three days after Bardon Pass and Kay stared down at the still figure, hearing the steady quiet breaths with relief. The king woke for brief times to drink water or brother and then fall back to sleep. Merlin stood at the foot of the bed with Igraine. "How is he?" Kay asked. "Will he live?" Merlin nodded. Igraine brushed away her tears, reaching for Merlin's hand. "How's Moira?"

"She's holding." Malcolm spoke softly from beside the fire that roared in the great hall.

"What does that mean?" Kay moved forward.

"It means she was _stupid_ enough to get the king out when he was wounded, then carried on with more than the two arrows." Owen replied. "She was wounded at Bardon Pass, none of us knew it. She wanted the king out once she saw him go down."

"I only saw the arrows."

"She has a decent cut on her," Merlin added in. "It'll heal, but she won't be unscarred."

"She awake?" Kay ventured. The brothers, all of whom were beside the fire, shared a look.

Igraine stepped forward. "She has been in and out of a fever Kay…the Healers believe she will live."

"They believe or they know?"

"No one can know for certain," Merlin intervened.

"You can, can't you?" Kay approached Merlin.

Merlin sighed softly. "The king is where my visions lie. I know he'll live but Moira is…" he rotated his hand in the air. "A mystery." He dropped his hand as Kay left the room. Mal rubbed his hands over his face, feeling three days worth of a beard growth and shook his head. "She should've stayed in Ireland," his eyes found the comfort of the fire. "She would have been safe there."

"She did a courageous thing Malcolm," It was Igraine who spoke softly.

"Courageous often blurs the line of stupidity," he replied darkly. "I can't bury my sister."

"None of us can Mal," Larkin added in. He had been taking it hardest. Both friends were wounded, his king lying on what they thought had been his death bed and his sister on what he knew could be her death bed.

* * *

><p>She didn't look like herself. Kay stood over Moira, hazel eyes staring down in worry. She was too pale, her hair too stringy and slick sweat, her chest heaving in a way that wasn't hers. Rubbing a hand over his face he sat on the edge of the bed, brushed a strand of hair from her forehead. "I know you can hear me," he spoke softly. "Arthur's all right, he's pulling through." He stroked his fingers across her cheek. "Your brothers aren't hurt, I'm doing better. Gawain and Leontes are fine…even Rusty." He fumbled to continue for words. "I realize I lost your trust at Pendragon…I hoped that it was regained at—at Bardon…" He paused as he felt the hand under his twitch. His stomach churned. "I hope beyond everything else that you wake up, that you live, I have so much to do, to show you." Her hand moved slightly once more. "Just wake up, if you can do anything for me right now it's to wake up. I don't care if you hate me for the rest of our lives—" He broke off his voice cracking. The hand had stopped twitching.<p>

"Don't…" the raspy voice thick with Ireland's brogue had him jerking his head up. "Make promises…" Weak, but she was there. He grinned happily, heart soaring. He pressed a gentle kiss to her hand. Slowly, so slowly that he almost wanted to open them himself her eyelids lifted. He was coming into focus. Yes, there he was. Concerned hazel-brown eyes, the scuff of his beard was there too. He bared scratches on his face. She dreaded to think what she looked like.

"Stay here," He ordered and rushed out of the room. Like she was going to go anywhere, she thought bitterly. He was back in no time at all; bringing the motley crew she called family with him. Though she was still weak her brothers tended her, bringing water and broth. They had her sitting up, telling her the news. "How long have I been out?" She asked.

"Four days," Larkin answered. "The king is awake, in pain, but he's healing. It's just little ole you causing the trouble." He stroked a loving hand over her hair. "The arrow wounds are healing nicely. Sealed those up with fire." She winced at the thought. "Ye were too far under to notice." He added. "The cut however," He nodded to her wrapped side. "It's about yay long," He held up his hands having them approximately seven inches apart. "It'll scar nicely." He added smirking. She rolled her eyes. Gawain emerged from the corner of the room, she smiled feebly at him. He returned it and sat on the unoccupied side of the bed. "Foolish." He said warmly. "That's what you are."

"Saved yer ass didn't I?" She replied back smartly. He nodded and kissed her brow. Kay was the next one over. She lifted her hand very briefly to motion him closer. A crack filled the air. Malcolm biting back a laugh even as Moira and Kay swore. Moira clutched at her hurt shoulder and realized that slapping someone was too much exertion. "What was that for?" Kay rubbed his red cheek scowling.

"For scaring me," she replied easily.

Gawain laughed, and placed a hand on Kay's shoulder. "You can have her mate; she's too much woman for me." Moira smiled at Gawain. "Though I wouldn't mind one more kiss."

"I think you've had plenty of those." Kay blocked his friend.

"I second that," Mal glared at Gawian. "Specially at Bardon." Kay turned his gaze to Moira, narrowing them. She grinned innocently. He supposed it was fair enough considering his mistakes.

"The kings up." Merlin spoke from the doorway. "Walking." Moira smiled leaning back on her pillows. It was going to be a good day.

* * *

><p>Authors Notes; So, I'm impatient, this is my version of the season finale. Hate it or love it<p> 


	9. Chapter 9

**Captivated**

Scars, scars are a reminder of what has happened, what has been and what will always be. Moira gazed at the woman in the mirror. She stood naked, gray eyes on a face that wasn't her own, on a body that had lost its plumpness. She had once hated the puppy fat that had stayed through her childhood into adult years. Now she craved to have it back. It had been two weeks since Bardon Pass, two weeks since the king fell wounded in battle, two weeks since she and the king had been bed ridden. Arthur had been up and moving around for a week and a half, missing his sword Excalibur. Merlin had been locked away from everyone, devising a plan to get it back. And Moira had finally risen. Slowly, her hands unsteady she unwrapped the bandages that went from the bottom of her breasts to her waist. With each movement she saw more than she wanted to. Bruises marred her rib cage on the left side, and on the right sat an ugly welt. She stared at it for a long moment. It had stopped oozing blood, it still hurt, but she could see where it was pink with new skin beginning to heal. Moira sighed softly, lifting her head to look at herself in the mirror again. The left side of her face was bruised yellow-green; her temple sported a small cut. All in all she thought she had fared well. "It does no good to ponder on it," Igraine said softly from the doorway. Moira ashamed of her nakedness merely tugged up the robe. "I have new bandages."

"How's Arthur?" Moira asked even as Igraine tugged at the robe.

"Walking with Kay," She replied rubbing salve on the woman's wound.

"Leontes?"

"Moving into his new rooms…" Igraine said softly. Moira's gaze lifted to Igraine's in the mirror. "It'll pass." The older woman said. She finished binding the wound. "It's doing better," Igraine gathered a dress up for the woman and helped her into it. Not one for help Moira merely mumbled a thank you as the king's mother moved on to doing her hair. "Are you in much pain?" Igraine asked gently as the woman's eyes closed.

"No," Moira opened them slightly as Igraine's finger ran through her hair, separating bits to be plaited. "Tis been a long time since someone has done my hair for me—my mother used to when I was a child." Her stomach clenched at the knock on the door. It was Larkin who poked his head in. "Larkin?"

"Shannon's sent word," He moved further into the room. "She's at Pendragon."

"Pendragon!" Moira cried out turning swiftly, and then let out a cry as her wound pulled. Tears gathering in pain she forced herself to speak. "What is she doing there?"

"Morgan's men found her and Ian, when they asked where they were going she said Camelot and Morgan invited them to Pendragon for rest."

"I bet she did," muttered Igraine darkly. Moira smiled slightly. "What do you intend to do?" The woman's eyes fell to Moira.

"Leave her there," Moira replied tuning back to her vanity. "She'll come along soon enough." Larkin frowned at his sister's reflection. She had grown bitter, bitterer than before. "Don't give me that look Larkin."

"She could die there," argued her brother.

"She's just as cunning as Morgan," Moira rose, brushing at a strand of hair. "They'll get along famously I'm sure."

Larkin sighed and thought he'd add the very last part. "Maggie's with them…she batered a passage—" Moira's skin paled considerably. "Moira I'm sure she's fine."

"She _hates_ Shannon," Moira replied and began to gather her cloak and sword. Maggie was Moira's best friend and companion, there was no way in Heaven or Hell she would let the woman stay at Pendragon.

0-0-0

The warm autumn sun did the King a favor by shining. After being cooped inside the castle for so long he had almost forgotten what it looked like. "Does it hurt much?" Kay asked Arthur as the king rubbed a hand against his chest with a wince.

"Comes and goes," Arthur replied. "I owe Moira my life. I owe all of you my life." He looked at Kay. "I'm sorry…for all that I've ever done to you." Kay didn't say anything; he just turned and hugged his brother hard. A horse's whinny split the air from within the courtyard. "Someones excited to be out of the stable," Arthur said laughing it died as soon as horse and rider burst out of the courtyard.

"Moira!" Kay's strong bellow was cut off from above by Mal's and Owen's. He turned toward them, shielding his eyes from the sun. "Where's she going!"

"Pendragon!" Mal's one word contained all the hate in the world. Kay's hand dropped. "Saddle up." Mal's words were joined with Owen's cursing at his sister. Larkin, Owen, Mal and Kay congregated in the court yard, leading their horses, gathering their weapons. "Her best friend is there with our sister." Larkin explained mounting. "Told Moira and she left…I didn't think she'd—" His words fell as Kay began to gallop off. He looked at his brothers then shrugged. "Tally Ho."

0-0-0

Shannon McCreedy walked beside Morgan, arms looped as she spilled out her secrets to the woman. "…and she has the nerve to believe that Ian actually loved her…so I married him."

"A wise decision," Morgan replied, brushing at a fake tear. "You've led a hard life…it'll be harder at Camelot. Ruffians and the like are what you'll find out there." She shuddered. "Pendragon is much safer." Maggie, who had been walking behind them, merely snorted softly at the thought. The McCreedy's would not have gone to Camelot if it was filled with such people. Shannon was an idiot in her mind and a viper. What with her stealing Moira's man like that.

"Oh I suppose we can stay a day or two more," Shannon laughed lightly. Morgan joined her laughing, she felt positively stupid by doing so. "Moira won't miss us much."

_Speak for yerself, ye stupid cow,_ Maggie thought darkly brushing at her bright red hair. They exited Pendragon, they weren't two steps out before a rider arrived. "Shannon," the familiar brogue of Moira washed over Maggie like a warm ray of sun on a flower. "T'isn't Camelot yer in," Moira dismounted; glowering at the men he began to surround her.

"Leave her," Commanded Morgan. The men backed off as the woman walked forward. "Welcome back Lady Moira."

"Save the innocent act for someone who cares," Moira interrupted. "Maggie's coming with me Shannon, do what ye wish, Camelot's not too far."

"Maggie's my handmaid," Shannon replied sweetly.

"Not anymore," Moira re-mounted her horse, and held down her hand to help Maggie, but Shannon gripped onto the redhead. "Let her go."

"She's mine."

"I'm no ones," Maggie shook loose of Shannon's iron grip. The courtyard was then flooded with the men of Camelot. Moira tried hard not to scowl at them, but couldn't help but smile when Kay moved his horse beside hers. "Are you all right?" He asked softly. She nodded.

"Well, well," Morgan's raspy voice drew everyone's attention. "Just come right in…"

"Shannon's of the McCreedy clan which belongs to Camelot," It was Kay who spoke. "This includes Shannon and her—" He looked apologetically at Moira. "Husband."

"Maggie's not of the McCreedy clan," Morgan said smiling.

"Oh aye, ye can be sure she is," It was Larkin who spoke, he had a fondness for Maggie. "As my betrothed she belongs at Camelot."

"Yer not betrothed," Shannon fired back.

"If ye had been around ye'd know that it is true," Moira spoke, enjoying her brother's rather inventive lie. Larkin helped Maggie onto the back of his horse. "We'll be waitin' fer ye at Camelot Shannon." With that she and her men left.

"Well…" Morgan laid a hand on Shannon's shoulder. "Camelot sounds enjoyable…"

"No, it doesn't."

0-0-0

"Yer my hero," Moira laughed lightly as she rode beside Larkin. "Brilliant."

"Aye, he was always one for quick thinking," Maggie said, her arms around the man's waist. "But as I recall we never even courted before we got betrothed."

"Pretend my sweet love," Larkin turned his head to look at her, smirking. "Just pretend." Moira caught the glint in his eyes and reached over cuffing him smartly about the head. "Ow!"

"Keep yer loving looks to yerself, ye great big fool," Moira ordered with a wink at Maggie, her friend laughed warmly. It was good to be back in the company of the McCreedy's. She looked at Kay for a moment, he watching Moira intently. She noted his eyes kept going to her side. Intrigued if not a bit confused Maggie looked at Moira again. She noted things she had not before. There was bruising around her eye, her hands were scraped, but healing and there was a sword in a sheath riding on the saddle with her. True, all of them were armed, but to see sweet Moira armed was a shock.

"How is it?" she heard Kay question Moira.

"Tis fine."

"Moira, don't lie…" that was Gawain ahead of them. "If you're bleeding through—"

"Bleeding?" Maggie looked worriedly at Moira.

"Tis nothing Maggie," Moira shot a dark look at both men. "Trust me."

"Trust you?" Maggie laughed. "The last time ye said trust ye was when ye fought Ian tooth and nail. And then ye came here."

"You fought Ian?" Mal turned back to look at his sister who looked down sheepishly. "I love ye little pup," He laughed and turned forward again.

"Ye promised ye'd never talk about it," Moira accused Maggie. The green-eyed woman grinned wickedly. "Viper."

"Whore." Maggie teased playfully.

"Bitch," Moira shot back with a smirk.

"Foolish," The Irishwomen joined hands smiling. In them Kay saw a sisterly bond, one that he hadn't seen when he had arrived at Pendragon. Moira had been cold; colder than she had been to him if that was even possible. And the fury, the pure rage in Moira's voice when she told Morgan that Maggie wasn't staying had made him swell with pride. Camelot loomed over them, welcoming them back into her safety. Maggie's mouth opened, and then a smile graced her lips. "Camelot." She whispered.

"Camelot." Larkin replied smiling.

"Camelot." Owen rode through the gates,

"Tis a silly place." Moira stated. "But home." Leontes greeted them with a raised arm; his eyes fell on the new arrival, brows furrowed in confusion. They dismounted, Larkin assisted Maggie his hands strong and sure on her waist. Moira cleared her throat to break the two apart, a warning look shot at her brother. "Leontes this is my good friend Maggie."

"No sister?"

"At Pendragon."

"Ah." Leontes murmured. "Will she come?"

"Tis her choice." Moira walked away with no other words than that. Kay followed her into the stables. "Stop following me." She said darkly, he opened his mouth to speak. "I'm fine, go away." She laid her head on the post of her mares stall. Kay laid his hands on her shoulders. "My sister…my own flesh and blood—did ye see the way she looked at me?"

"You didn't look too kindly on her yourself." He turned her to face him, and brushed a loose strand of hair from her eyes. "You got Maggie here, that's all that should matter." She nodded. "Believe me?" He lifted her chin up with the tips of his fingers. "Well?"

"For now."

"Moira," Kay leaned his brow against hers. She made a small mummer in her throat, affirming for him to continue talking. "I thought I had lost you at Bardon Pass," he pressed his lips to where his forehead had been. "I've been foolish, so have you. The past is done with, start looking at the future. You said you wanted a life with me."

"I thought I was going to die, people say a lot of things when they feel that way." She began to back away.

"That's not true and you know it," Kay blocked her escape route. "Don't hide from me Moira, not now." She threw her chin up defiantly. "Not after all that's happened."

"Moira…" Owen spoke from the front of the stable. She turned to look at him. "Maggie wants to talk to you." Even after all these years Maggie was her rescuer. She ducked under Kay's arm and trotted over to Owen, smirking at Maggie. "Thanks for that." She said.

"Thought I'd help ye out fer once." Maggie looped her arm through Moira's. "He's a handsome man. Who is he?"

"Sir Kay, Marshal of England…he's the kings brother."

"Oh God," Maggie laughed as they entered the great hall. "Oh ye are aiming high with this one aren't ye?"

"Why not?" Moira shrugged. "Ian was a lord."

"And a bastard," Maggie sat down on one of the benches beside the fire. "He didn't deserve ya then, and he certainly doesn't deserve ye now." Even as she spoke there was a ruckus in the courtyard. There were shouts, curses, but the screams drew Moira's attention. Rising she motioned Maggie to say where she was, even as Moira went to see what was happening her brothers were coming in. "Stay here Moira." Larkin ordered. "Arthur's gone by himself back to the Pass to get his sword…."

"What?"

"Stay here, yer still wounded." Larkin kissed her brow. "We'll be back soon."

"Go with the grace of God," Maggie stood beside her friend now. "And with my hope." They went to the courtyard. Arthur, Leontes, Kay, and her brothers were on horseback.

"Be safe!" Though Moira's shout was intended for everyone, her eyes found and locked on Kay's. He smiled at her and rode off. Maggie clasped Moira's hand in hers. "What else is going to wrong?" Moira muttered bitterly.

* * *

><p>Authors Notes: So, I mixed it up a bit for the last episode, as well as having a new character Maggie, who is based of of someone I know (Yes, you know who) she;s one of the ones who has contributed a great deal to my ideas for the story.<p> 


	10. Chapter 10

****

****

There´s a grief that can´t be spoken

There´s a pain goes on and on

Empty chairs at empty tables

Now my friends are dead and gone.

(C) Les Mis

Something wasn't right, Moira decided as she changed her clothes from the dress she wore for a tunic and breeches. She could feel it, there was something happening, something she should have joined in on. Swiftly, hands moving fast she braided her hair as best she could and belted on her sword, wincing at the pull of her wound. Even as she left her room she heard Morgan's voice below. "And I know that you are frightened—" Moira went to the railing. "My brother has gone to battle to protect these lands. It is my wish that I be here for you in your time of need." She went to sit on the throne, but Moira's voice rang hard and strong.

"Ye can wish all ye want, but ye won't sit on the throne—no one but Arthur, the true king, sits there."

Morgan's eyes flashed, looking up at the woman. She should have died in battle; she should have ordered it on her men. "Lady Moira, I expected a better welcome then that."

"Ye won't have one." The Irishwoman descended the stairs from above. Merlin smiled to himself. "Arthur will return soon enough." To appease the woman, to not ruin her chances with the peasants Morgan merely stood beside the throne, hand resting on it. Content with that Moira turned away to find Maggie behind her. "The man…the sorcerer," The redhead fumbled for words. "She has him in the stocks…and the lady in shackles." Moira felt her stomach drop at Maggie's words.

"Show me."

0-0-0

How much more could go wrong? Merlin thought even as he was left alone, in the dark, no one but Pendragon's men around him. Igraine dragged off, Morgan taking the throne. Where was his king? Where was his hope? A rustle drew his attention to the two guards on either side. Moira, in quite possibly the most revealing clothes he had ever seen her in was sauntering…yes sauntering was the word, over to them. "I thought ye could use some ale," she spoke to the guards. "Tis a hard duty guarding a traitor." Merlin closed his eyes, even Moira was believing Morgan. There was no hope for Camelot, not anymore. His eyes flew up at the sound of gurgling. Both guards fell to the ground, clutching at their throats. Moira stood a bloody dagger in her hand, gray eyes fierce. "Praise the Gods." Merlin muttered, Moira stepped over the bodies and pulled a hair pin from the bun at the nape of her neck, setting to work.

"Igraine is in her rooms, the guards are gone…Morgan's in there," Moira spoke softly as she worked. "I fear the worse—Morgan's…evil." The locks clicked and she lifted the top off of the stock. "Go, go quickly." The sorcerer hurried off, trying to rid the ache in his muscles. Moira stood where she was, blood soaked into the chemise she wore, eyes cast skyward. _God grant me to the strength to know what is right_. She rushed back into the castle, heading for her rooms. Maggie let out a gasp as the door opened and closed. Relieved that it was Moira. "Oh my—what happened…"

"Shh." Moira silenced her smartly, shedding the see through chemise in exchange for her men's clothes. She washed the blood from her hands and her dagger. The chemise was burned.

"Ye have changed…" Maggie whispered her green eyes tearful. "Yer a killer."

"No, I'm a knight," Moira fixed her bandages. "Go to bed…" She crawled onto the furs with her childhood friend and snuggled down for the night. Even as sleep took them death took Igraine in the form of Morgan.

0-0-0

Sometime in the night Excalibur came home to Camelot, to her rightful place. However, she was not in the hands of her true master. Morgan trailed her fingers down the blood-soaked sword. "It is time," Sybil said from the corner of the room. "Take your rightful place." The light of dawn filtered in through the windows. "Today is the day." Sybil laid her hands on Morgan's shoulders. "Camelot, and the country will be yours."

Moira readied herself for the day; her dress chosen by Maggie was black with gold trim, unusual for her style, but appreciated nonetheless. She exited her room, her head held high a circle of emeralds around her brow. Merlin met her in the hall. "Igraine is dead." He whispered.

"What?" Moira's cry echoed down the hall, gray eyes filled with tears. "How?"

"Morgan." Merlin replied softly. Moira closed her eyes and enclosed him in a warm hug, stroking the back of his neck. "She's gone too far." He whispered. He hadn't even had a chance with the real Igraine and she was torn from him, cruelly, coldly. Moira murmured soft words of reassurance in his ears.

"My people!" The voice of Morgan shot chills down Moira's back. With Merlin behind her she went down to the great hall, it seemed everyone had gathered there. "The King is dead! Here is his sword!" She held up Excalibur in the light of the new day. Sybil, in the crafty way brought the crowd around to thinking Morgan would be queen. Even as she affirmed that she would take the throne Moira was pushing through. "Ye will not!" The shout made them part letting her through. "The only way ye'll take the throne is if ye show us the body of the king." Morgan's eyes flashed. "Unless ye think it unnecessary…"

"Lady Moira it seems you're the only one who wishes to see the body…"

"I'm with her." Maggie spoke up from the back of the crowd.

"As do I." Others began to speak, Morgan, flustered, looked to Sybil for guidance, but it was all too late.

"Seize her." Morgan ordered. Guards grabbed both her arms; she was shackled to the pillar with Merlin.

"Nice seeing you here," Merlin said dryly. She gave him a dour smile. Shifting around in order to see him more clearly. "Is he dead?" The sorcerer asked.

"I don't know." She replied. "I was told to stay."

0-0-0

It was afternoon; the great hall was turning into a coronation room. Moira scowled watching them all. "She's not the rightful heir, ye know that don't ye?" Moira shouted at them. "She'll fuck you all over!" Her eyes fell back to the door as it opened. "The Devil take you!" Moira screamed as Sybil lifted the crown over the head of Morgan. "Both of you!" She closed her eyes against the words being said, shaking her head. A slow clapping began before the crown reached her head. Moira turned grinning. "Arthur." She said softly.

"You live!" Morgan hugged her brother.

"I know your true face sister." Arthur turned to the crowd. "One word of my death you proclaim new leader a king could be offended." Even as he spoke Kay was undoing the shackles on the wizard and Moira. This is hard because I remember standing here at my coronation and seeing hope and I have made mistakes. I live for one thing your hope and how to deliver on it."

"You Morgan Pendragon, you have betrayed these people, you have betrayed me."

"It was my idea," Sybil spoke before Morgan could. Sybil was taken away. The hall cleared.

Kay pushed his way toward Moira; she met him halfway, throwing her arms around him, breathing in the scent of sweat and hay from the stable. He closed his arms around her; eyes squeezed shut as he thought of how he was supposed to tell her of all that had happened. "Igraine's dead." Moira pulled away the hug.

"So is Leontes…he died protecting the king." Kay whispered, he caught her in his arms again as a sob split the air. "Moira…Owen…Owen fell." The sobs grew harder. Arthur stood by them, Merlin at his side, a steadying hand on his shoulder.

"Owen, Leontes, Igraine, how many more must die!" Moira shouted eyes on her king. Eyes that were filled with pain and tears. Kay stroked a steady hand over her hair even though his grimed face was streaked with tears. Larkin and Mal walked in Owen's body bared between them on a stretcher. Behind them Leontes body was brought in. A funeral pyre would be held that night for all three that were lost. Maggie went quietly into Larkin's arms, comforting.

0-0-0

He knew where to find her. He knew the path well, he knew her well. Malcolm walked under the branches of the willow and sat down beside her. Silence was all that was needed between brother and sister. It wasn't long before Larkin joined them; they sat as they had always sat, side by side, shoulder to shoulder. The only thing different is that they were missing one of their own. True others were mourning, others were lost All of Camelot would grieve that night, they were allowed one night of sadness, no more, no less.

"He died a good death," Larkin said finally. "One that we all can honor."

"He was the baby," Moira whispered, eyes streaming down her face. "I helped raise him."

"I know little pup," Malcolm leaned his head on hers. "We will continue on. Together."

0-0-0

Three pyres were laid at sunset. Three fires lit for those that were lost, for those that had died for Camelot. Moira stood beside Kay, as the flames licked at Owen's body she slipped her hand into Kay's. "He'll never know how much I loved him," She murmured. She turned her head into Kay's shoulder as Larkin sang softly. "And it is my own true love that has called to me, from across the sea…from across the sea…"

"And I will follow you, wherever you may go," Moira joined softly. "For tis in Heaven that I will surely go…And it is there that we will meet once more…no longer longing to be brothers in arms."

000

"Those planks right over there," Kay instructed Moira gently. "The ones with Leontes'…" He didn't have to go further as Moira collected them, and held them lovingly to her chest. They were joined by the knights, and her brothers. "The seat shall remain empty until we find a champion fit for me." Arthur stated. "For Leontes." He pointed his sword towards the sky.

"For Leontes." The chorus of words was joined by the points of swords. Arthur then turned to Moira, Larkin and Malcolm. "Kneel." Confused, the three family members knelt. One by one he knighted them. "Rise McCreedy's as knights of Camelot and of King Arthur. In the light of the deaths a new order will be born. A round table where no one will fear judgment and all will fight for what's good and just."

0-0-0

She had followed him into countless battles, she had grew up beside him, loved him, cared for him. Moira sat gazing into the fire; her gray eyes seemed never to grow tired of producing tears. She had followed him into the fiery depths of Hell, over mountains, across rivers. And what had that gotten her? A dead brother, a dead comrade, and a dead surrogate mother all in the same fucking day. Merlin was gone. Morgan exiled. Maggie had gone to Larkin's room and from the rumors flooding around the castle Bridget to Mal's. She rose from her position on the floor to answer the knock. She opened the door, Kay stood on the other side. Without a word she let him in, following him to the bed. "I don't want to be alone." He said softly. She sat down beside him, and leaned into the arm he offered. Moira turned his face toward hers, and laid her lips gently on his. It was not a day to distrust anymore. It was a day to make amends, to make change. Kay framed her face between his hands, deepening the kiss. She pulled away. "Stay with me tonight." Her soft request had him groaning softly as he took her mouth once more.

His large hands lifted the chemise she wore from her body, running his hand along her thigh to her rib cage, the bandages a reminder of what they had fought for, together. His hands cupped her supple breasts, thumbs caressing the nipples into peaks. "Do you know how long I've imagined this?" He whispered pressing his lips to the side of her neck, combing the hair from her face. She pulled the tunic away from his body pulling him close, relishing the feeling of his hard muscles, the smoothness of his skin. He freed himself of his pants. She lay beneath him; gray eyes darkened with passion, polished oak hair tussled across the silken sheets. He ran his head down between her breasts, large callused fingers leaving a trail of goose bumps. Finally his hand found its mark between her legs.

She was hot, wet and ready, Still, he thought as he kissed her, still all he wanted to do was please her. She was like a well aged wine, sweet to the taste, drugging and addictive. She writhed beneath him, impatient as always. His eyes went cross-eyed as her long fingers wrapped around his length. Laughing hoarsely he pressed a kiss to each peaked nipple before letting himself slide into the warm abyss. She clamped around him, an anchor in the middle of a raging storm. It wasn't like her to be like this, Moira thought as her body rocked against Kay's. So free with herself, so confident. Kay let out a surprised laugh as she rolled them, and rose high above him, hips moving in her own rhythm. His hands laid on her hips, hazel eyes half closed watching the woman above him. His grip tightened as he flipped them, grunting and panting he shook and shuddered even as she bit his shoulder in an attempt to block out a loud moan. She clenched and unclenched around his softening cock.

Kay dropped his forehead onto hers, panting softly. He brushed his fingers gently on her hair, kissing the side of her chin, her eyebrows, her eyelids, the tip of her nose and finally her mouth. She smiled lazily against his lips and murmured in displeasure as he pulled out and flopped not too ceremoniously on his side. She curled up on her side, sedated from both wonderful sex and the effects of grieving all day. Kay lay on his side, gazing at her. She looked like a cat that had gorged itself on a bucket of cream. She nestled into his arms, closing her eyes. "Will you be able to sleep?" She muttered sleepily.

"Oh yes," Kay murmured, stroking a hand over her head, soothing her. She was asleep, snoring softly. He smiled as he thought of the conversation he; Leontes and Gawain had had about it. He cast his eyes skyward, and smiled. "I love you Leontes," he whispered softly. "I'll miss you."

* * *

><p>AN: I will state for the record I don't normally write sex. Also I did try to throw some of the season finale in here. In the best way I could. Wish I could have had the script or something to get the lines right. But enjoy


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